Disappear
by Xyliette
Summary: Set in the future, I span about 8 years out from Season 3. A lot of tragedy and some joy in the end. Multiple pairings, all characters.
1. ACAI

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the their back stories in any way shape or form. Although life would be much more entertaining if I did. So, in short, don't sue me because all you will win is this story.

A/N: I now realize looking back that this may need a disclaimer of its own. It is not much fluff and deals with death/dying process. I hope to bring justice to those topics and not pain. Also, I have attempted to revamp this after a request, and I know it did look rather daunting to read.. so hopefully the paragraph breaks help out with that. Review me! I makes my whole day :)

* * *

It has been five years. Five years since she hauled everything into a ridiculously small trailer in the woods. Five years, since the defining moment in her life, her divorce. Five of the worst years of her life. She wishes more than anything the constant pain would stop. She remarried. She has the great looking husband who loves her more than anything. It isn't enough. It isn't what she wants.

She married Mark four years ago. She wanted to have a small wedding, or better yet to just elope. But he wouldn't have it. He had to show off. So she reluctantly threw on the white dress, the smile and said some vows she knew her heart would never mean. She wishes she didn't light up when he was around. She wishes she didn't see him with his new wife everywhere. But that is the part of being the chief she tells herself. Her sanity is the price. This is proven by the "happy pills" her darling husband recommended she try. They don't work, she knows why. She watches his surgeries because she loves to watch him to work, always has. She tells everyone it is because she is the boss and she has to make sure he is on the straight and narrow. She hopes they buy it, but it doesn't matter because she is the chief, they don't have a choice.

Four years ago she married Mark. Two years ago, by the grace of some god she has never known, she became pregnant. Her second abortion was about as fun as the first one. She rationalized by saying she didn't have time for kids. The truth is she doesn't want kids with him, never has. She didn't tell him this time; after all it didn't go over well the first time around. Three years ago they almost had a moment in the locker room, but she is the chief and they are both married. These days she is watching what has become her best friend battle an awful cancer. She feels bad, but secretly she wishes it was her with the disease. Her only desire in life is to disappear. Two years ago, they tried moving back to New York, but she was called back out to Seattle for this position. It has become her own personal hell. She questions everything, every feeling. She has no idea when she lost herself. Or maybe she knows the exact instant, either way it doesn't matter. She got everything she ever wanted for her life, except him, and her happiness can't be found anywhere. As she signs Addison Forbes Montgomery-Sloan to the endless stack of papers in front of her she decides being chief of Seattle Grace Hospital is significantly overrated.

* * *

It has been five years. Five years since her wedding. She can't believe it. So much has changed in such a short amount of time. She now truly understands what a 180 means. If someone would have pulled her aside and told her, Cristina Yang-Burke, that she would be a mother she would have laughed in their face and then probably slapped them. But here she was sitting in their apartment with their 3 year old son, and another baby on the way. She remembers her wedding vividly, so much so that it hurts. She didn't run, she thought she might have tried to make a break for it, but she didn't. She glided up the aisle, took his hand and smiled what may have been the first real smile of her life. She loved him, he got her in a way no else could understand. To others she was a hardcore surgery addict. Some things never change. She was still that person, but with a ridiculous amount of hormones. That was unfortunate for whoever her interns were but she couldn't care less.

Two years ago if someone would have pulled her aside and told her that she would be the most unhappy person she knew, she may have beat the shit out of them. But it was true. There she was sitting with their son, in their apartment, with their daughter on the way. She hated it, hated everything about her life. In the beginning it was fine; they had Spencer and hired a nanny. She went back to work, and loved every minute of life. Now she hates seeing her son, she hates everything he represents. He embodies his father. She is relatively sure that if the great state of Washington would allow late term abortion, she would do it in a heartbeat. She knows he would understand. But he isn't there to understand anything. After four years and 6 months of marriage her life effectively ended at 3:46 am on a Wednesday in late March. She blamed herself, there was no one else to blame. It was her crazy hormones that needed Thai food at two a.m. And it was his good nature to get his wife whatever she needed. It was her fault.

She thought at first that she might miscarry and go into pre-term labor, but their daughter seemed to be a stubborn as her mother. She dreads the day she will give birth, having to stare down at her last piece of him. She spends everyday with her son now, and hates how he asks where his father is all the time. She thinks that if she has to explain how daddy died in a car accident one more time that she may actually die herself. Most days she wishes she could disappear. She has nothing left except her children, and the constant aching reminder of how life used to be wonderful. She will never willingly set foot in that hospital again, and she hates him for it. He ruined her favorite thing. He ruined her.

* * *

It has been five years. Five long and torturous years. He can't understand what the hell he is still doing in this god forsaken city. Five years ago he was an intern. He meant nothing to anyone and he loved it. He didn't have any obligations other than his job. He, Alex Karev, defined what it meant to be truly alone. He disowned his family and moved a few states away. He had decided that after a horrible childhood he was going to do better. He would not be defined in terms of his past. Try as he may, he was dead wrong. He thinks about his family all the time. He misses his sister, and mother everyday of his life. He wants someone to be around, someone to talk to. Everyone has moved on without him. Sure they are all still around, except the late Preston Burke, but they aren't really there for him. If he thought about it for a second he would come to realize that they never were there for him anyway. But this was all his own fault.

He once had Izzie, for a short but glorious week. And since then, he had what became his boss, and various other hospital personnel. No one is the right one. He hates that she turned out to be right, he is nothing more than a mini-Sloan. Two years ago looking at the happy married Sloan he figured it might not be such a bad thing. But these days looking at a despondent, miserable Sloan he thinks that he should probably get a grip on his life. He never planned to fall in love with a patient. It was an unimaginable thing to do. He saw what happened with the whole Denny debacle, and wanted nothing to do with it. In the end, he lost her. He lost her by choice, because he thought it was the right thing to do.

Now he wants nothing more than to go back five years ago and give her a reason to stay. He loved her daughter more than the father ever could, and he constantly finds himself thinking of them during surgeries. He switched out of the vagina squad after she left. It was too painful, not that he would ever admit that to anyone. He now does plastics, his original plan and for all of the same reasons. Sometimes he thinks he should just disappear, Chief Sloan is the only one would notice, because it is her job to notice. He questions his entirely unprofessional behavior with her, and wonders how the hell she can still stand to be near him, when he can't stand himself. He can't remember a time when he had hope in the recent past, and decides it is time for a change. So next week he will move on to his new job in Chicago, but for now he downs beers at Joe's and debates on whether or not to tell anyone goodbye. He mostly hopes that someone will miss him, but he'd quickly settle for someone remembering him.

* * *

It has been five years. Five wretchedly boring years. She has thee kids, in five years. She should be anything but bored. The day that Dr. Montgomery-Sloan told them about the triplets she wanted to kill her husband and make it look like an accident. 3 years and 6 months ago she made, what she has deemed the worst mistake of her life thus far. No one knew, she looked happy enough on the outside. She made the right choice for her children, it was the only choice. Kids need two parents, she thought almost four years ago. From her own personal experience she knew they deserved that chance. He was nice, she could stand to live with him, for her children. 3 years and 10 months ago she was an aspiring second year resident with serious promise. Now she is a house wife wishing she had some sort of excuse to get out of the kitchen and go back to work.

The day she said "I do" is the day she now realizes that her life came to a crashing halt. She took the Dr. from the front of her name and replaced it with a Mrs., talk about regret. As a general policy she, Izzie Stevens, tries not regret anything. Not even that one drunken night with George. However, Isobel Walters regrets the entire last five years. She regrets her husband, her mundane everyday routine, and on bad days even her children. Her children, that tie her permanently to a man she has grown to hate. He isn't anything short of wonderful. He is a great father, a dedicated lawyer, and an amazing husband. But she doesn't love him. She wishes that she could, for the sake of her own daily sanity, but it is a lost cause. She had always planned on going back to work, after the kids were a little older. Her husband thinks differently. He wants Susie homemaker, and that isn't Izzie. She even hates baking now. Isobel is what he calls her, he says Izzie is immature. She misses the sound of her old name, the way her friends say it. She hasn't seen most of them in a few years due to the unrelenting schedule of having three children under the age of four.

She is bored with life. Her kiddos, she calls them, stopped being entertaining as soon as they were mobile and destroying everything. She wants to disappear and not look back. She voiced the opinion of divorce once but that was quickly squashed after he mentioned how easy it would be for him to get sole custody. He has friends in high places, she only wishes she had some in low places. So to feel better (or maybe worse, she isn't quite sure) she drives to the hospital and watches the action from the inside of her car. She misses her life, she craves the excitement and adrenaline that used to course through her body. But she is stuck. Stuck in her boring life, stuck in the hell she created. There is no one to blame but herself, which she does daily. And as she sits there and watches the ambulances she thinks of running inside and asking whoever the chief is if she can come back, but she knows the answer. She can't, she is stuck.


	2. DCMG

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or the their back stories in any way shape or form. Although life would be much more entertaining if I did. So, in short, don't sue me because all you will win is this story.

A/N: Reviews.. please! Don't make me beg. I am not above it, it could happen. :)

* * *

It has been five years. Five years since he signed his name to that unholy piece of paper. Five years since he decided to hate her and move on. But if the truth had to be told he has yet to uphold his end of the decision. It isn't for lack of trying. He put forth an honest effort to only see all of the bad in her, and hate her for it. Unfortunately for him, he would just as soon take the good with bad if he could only have her back. Four years ago he stood uncomfortably next to his ex-best friend while he took the love if his life's hand in marriage. It took everything inside of him to not scream out in order to halt the whole production. He stared at her and tried not to reminisce about their marriage in New York. She didn't look as happy now, he thought. That was all his fault, he realizes now. It may have taken an affair, a divorce, and two more marriages for him to get the picture, but he finally understands.

He was pretty sure god was punishing him when Mark asked him to be his best man. Who does that to someone? But he did it anyway for her. Four years ago, the day before his world burned to the ground, he asked for Meredith's hand. Thinking back, he may have only done it to spite everyone. But she had moved on, and he needed to do the same. It was the logical next step. He is a logical man, or at least he used to be. He knows that she still holds onto a part of him, and he wishes more than anything he could get it back. Life is miserable without her, and it shouldn't be.

Three years ago, their daughter was born. Most days he wishes she wasn't. He loves his daughter, it is perhaps the best part of his life but it only goes to remind him of how much he wanted to have children with her. Four years ago she came to his wedding. She sat and watched while Mark held her hand. He didn't want to see that. Actually he didn't want to be offended by it; it was his wedding for crying out loud. But he can't help the way he feels. Three years ago she delivered his daughter. Literally, it was the best part of the last five years. But the moment was short lived. And as soon as he saw her holding his daughter and cooing at her, it made his heart twinge. His wife is happy, he thinks. He doesn't really pay too much attention these days. Lucky for him she is easy to please. He wishes he was a better man, like his father would have wanted. Now he has only succeeded in making everyone's life more difficult. He sticks around because his daughter needs him, which is a bad reason to stay married.

He kept the trailer, and not because his wife actually likes it. He kept it for the memories of how much his ex used to hate it. Sometimes he watches her work; he used to love to do that in New York. Sometimes she sees him and smiles. People notice and he has no excuse. Like a neurosurgeon has any interest in obstetrics, no one would buy it so he doesn't bother explaining. They had a moment in the locker room three years ago. He wishes he would've acted on it, but they are married. He wishes he could disappear with her.

Two years ago when they moved back to New York he thought that he may go mad without her. So he did a low and sneaky thing, as only he knows how to. He called her and offered her a job he knew she couldn't refuse. It was low because he sees how awful she looks all the time. Not on the outside, she has always been good with appearances, but the inside is ugly. He benefited himself, and he hurt her again. But it is better to have her around than be without her, even if they can only be friends. These days he drives home, to his house, with his wife and daughter inside, and sits in the driveway staring. Someone should be happy in there; it is a good house in a good neighborhood. He has a good life, what is wrong with him? He doesn't even need to answer it. He hopes that someday he will feel whole without her. As he fidgets with his first wedding band he knows he has to get her back. Someway, somehow. They are soul mates, they should be together. If only it was that simple.

* * *

It has been five years. Five years since she got chief resident. Five years and life was awful. She was bitter, angry, and depressed. Three years ago life was great. She had George, her loving husband. Five years ago she suspected something with him and the other intern, and she was right. He didn't think that she knew what happened. The whole hospital knew. He picked her though, so she tried her best to deal with the situation without killing anyone. Three years ago they found out they were expecting the bundle of joy that she had been pining for what seemed like forever. They were ecstatic.

3 years and 4 months ago life took a nasty turn. During a routine check up with Dr. Montgomery-Sloan, her new best friend, something went wrong. Well, something that was wrong was detected. Ovarian cancer her friend repeated to her. She couldn't understand the diagnosis. She was pregnant, not a cancer victim. In order to avoid worsening the cancer she had to make the most difficult decision of her life and terminate her child. Their child. She made her friend do it. She begged not to, but she had already decided that if she was going to suffer then others were going to suffer with her. She was bitter. That was a mistake she now realizes, because her friend wasn't the same for weeks.

Oh well, that was life. And in her life things were bad. She tried surgery and rounds of chemotherapy. She fought like hell, and kicked cancer's ass into remission. She thought she was going to be in the clear. The whole thing helped her relate better to her patients. Now she doesn't work at all. The excruciating pain she experiences forces her to stay home almost immobilized. The pain is mind numbing. She has good days and bad days. There is nothing more to try, no more treatment options for her. She is a lost cause. Her body hates her. She hates herself. She hates what has become of her. She knows now that finding out you aren't as strong as you think you are is one of life's most unfair lessons.

Two years ago when her friend came back to be chief she thought things were going to be good. Then they found the cancer again. She stopped caring. She was utterly sick of the pity that everyone took upon her. She was tired of hearing how sorry everyone was, and how they hope she would get better. It was all bullshit. They weren't sorry; she didn't even know most of these people. And there was no getting better. At first she dealt with the denial, then she begged god to let her live. She would do anything to not be dying. These days she wishes some would take real pity and shoot her in the head. Death is a welcome idea. Life is worse than death will ever be. Then she went through guilt. If only she had caught it earlier, if only indeed. There was no use in thinking like that, so she has moved on to anger. She is mad at everyone. No one can say or do anything right in her presence. She isn't pleasant to be around, and she couldn't care less. If the truth were stripped bare people would see right through the anger into her fears. She tells them all she wants to die, but she is terrified. She has yet to find anything comforting, not even her husband. She doubts highly that she will move into the stage of acceptance before she dies. She wants to disappear now. Moreover she is worried about her husband and how he will deal with cancer's wrath yet again. But she won't be around to find out. In a few months cancer will take its next victim. There will be no more worries, no more anything. She will dead.

* * *

It has been five years. Five years since the night at the prom. Five years since she held an explosive. Five years since she almost drowned. And she is thankful she is still alive. If you asked her straight out she would tell you that these five years have been five of the best in her life, comparatively speaking. Four years ago she married Derek, the man of her dreams. In the beginning things were difficult but she knew the day they danced their first dance that things were going to be good. She is currently a fourth year resident. Next year she is going to put up one hell of a fight for chief resident. And even though the Chief is her husband's ex-wife she is pretty sure no one else stands a chance. She is after all, Meredith Shepherd, and she is damn good at what she does. Cristina maybe could've stopped her, but she isn't around much.

Sometimes she sits around and thinks about her friends. She hasn't seen most of them in a while, work is hectic. But she hopes they are doing okay. Three years ago she went through he most agonizing pain in her life, labor. She vowed never to do it again, and Derek surprisingly agreed. She never in her wildest dreams would've imagined being a mother. She knew she wasn't cut out for it, but the day she held her daughter something shifted. Now she was all about reading to her, runny noses, going to the park, and baking cookies. Anything to spend time with her.

Sometimes she sits alone and thinks of quitting her job. It isn't that she doesn't love it, she does. But she doesn't want to miss out on her daughter's life the way her mother did. She has sworn she will never turn out like her mother. And thus the reason for her current predicament. She isn't exactly sure when it started, but it definitely did. Most days she acts like she can't see the way he looks at her, but she'd be lying to herself if she said it was nothing. She knows that he still loves her, but he isn't in love with her anymore. The bright and oh-so shiny appeal has rubbed off, and he wants to go back to his old ways. On certain rough days she and Mark talk about just locking them in a room and seeing what happens. But she already knows that nothing would, he isn't so certain. But Derek is tired of hurting people, she knows this. He would never leave her. Maybe one day they will get it back together. Maybe they just need a vacation, some time together and everything would be great again.

Sometimes she regrets making Derek give up his position as Chief, but he didn't fight her on it. He doesn't really fight about anything these days. She thought they were in the clear when she moved back to New York, but her daughter and a vacant position brought her back entirely too soon. She isn't really sure how to go about winning him back, but she knows she has to. There is another life hanging in the delicate balance now. She has replaced tequila with exercising, more specifically jogging. She loves the way her feet hit the trail, and how her lungs burn as she takes in the morning air. It helps her to think, but some days she wants to disappear into the water again. Mostly she focuses on living for her daughter, and it gets her through the long lonely nights without him. She suddenly realizes what he meant when he said he was absent, it is a gut wrenching feeling. To have him there, close enough to touch, but she won't for fear of losing him. Because the worse part about the last five years has been losing him. Without him she feels like she is missing a part of herself, the best part.

* * *

It has been five years. Five years of marriage. Five years since he failed the intern exam. Five years since the spat that lead to the drunken night with Izzie. Five years since the night he should be regretting every day of his life. Five years that he should be thankful because she chose to stay with him. It has been a rough five years. Strike that, five brutal and emotionally draining years. He never thought it would end like this. Not in his wildest dreams did he dream that cancer would haunt him again. He was wrong, dead wrong.

When they found out 3 years and 4 months ago he thought his world ended. But he was wrong then too. It ended the short year after that when the cancer returned. There was no hope now. This was not something he dealt with well. He always knew that Callie was the right choice, or maybe she was the safe chance. She was neither of those lately. But he couldn't blame her. He would be angry if he were in her position too. She is difficult to be around at best. He tries though; he is trying his heart out. Bringing her her medications. The ones for her pain, but it is rare that they actually work anymore. He brings her food to her bed in hopes that she will have the strength to eat. She rarely does. These days he sits with her at night after he gets home at work. He sits on the side of her bed afraid to touch her. He isn't sure if it would hurt her. But she broke a long time ago; he still hasn't come to terms with it. He went through the denial with her, thinking that maybe they could push through this again. He was wrong on that account too. He is wrong a lot now.

Nothing he does with her is right, but he doesn't get mad at her. He can't. She is dying in front of him. Dying a painful death and there is nothing he can do. Nothing. He has read all the books, gone to support groups, anything to help her but nothing does. He can't even focus on himself these days. Sometimes he sits and watches her sleep thinking that everything will be so much more peaceful when she is gone. He mentally damns himself to hell for the thought, but he can't help it. He misses when things were simple, he needs simple, he craves it. Things used to be good. Sometimes when he sits there he thinks of how simple things could've been if he picked Izzie. If he followed the other half of his heart and tried to chase her things could've been good. She doesn't have cancer he reminds himself. Well at least he thinks she doesn't, he hasn't seen her in years.

He feels like his home is a death chamber. Some days he wants to disappear so he doesn't have to go home and see her. He knows it is selfish and wrong, but he can't stand much more of this. His minds feels like it could explode if one more thought tries to emerge. Living with her has made him bitter and angry too. He takes is out on his interns, and sadly thinks that everyone is probably relating him to Sloan in some way. He doesn't care. He is tired of the looks. Tired of the support. He wants to forget what is going on at home when he goes to work. As he watches her die more and more everyday he suddenly thanks his father in heaven for electing to have the surgery. This is so much more painful. This isn't having more time with her, she is already gone. As he drives home at night sometimes he hopes she has been given the sweet mercy of death. And as he swerves through traffic, his eyes fighting through the tears and rain to see he thinks out loud: What have I done to deserve this? Is this my karmic payback for one night of adultery? One night he curses. One fucking night, and this what I get trapped with.


	3. MR

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or their back-stories. They just like to run crazily through my head until I write it all out. Again, don't sue me, all you will win is this story.

A/N: Reviews:) OK, so I have one more character to do after this, and I haven't decided quite where to take this yet. I will hopefully have it figured out shortly. Thanks for reading!

* * *

It has been five years. Five years since she had the worst group of unruly interns in her career. Five years since she almost lost her job over one of those stupid interns. Five years since she was passed up for chief resident. Five years since she opened her largest accomplishment to date, affectionately dubbed "the clinic". Five years since she was mommy tracked. All in all the last five years haven't made too big of a dent in her life. She has remained on the mommy track and if it weren't for her pride she might have switched to a specialty where being a mom was okay. Where being a mom was applauded. But it isn't in her line of work.

Now she is a fourth year attending. She is still the Nazi. She has, in the last five years, made about 13 interns cry in front of her and she has no idea how many behind closed doors. She would be lying if she said that that year, five years ago, wasn't the hardest year of her life. And she would be lying if she said she didn't miss that group of annoying interns. She is thankful that she has gotten to watch the majority of them progress onto bigger and better things. But she doesn't like the things she hears about them in the rumor mill that is SGH. Sometimes she misses Yang's snaky comments behind her back. Sometimes she misses O'Malley's incessant whining. Sometimes she misses Steven's beside manner. Some days she misses Grey's man problems, although from what she has heard they are still a prevalent theme in her life. And on a bad day she still wishes she could hear Karev's defiant tone. They were all good she remembers, just each in their own way. There have yet to be any like them again. The chief was right when he said that most of them wouldn't stick with the program. But her interns thought they were invincible. Thought they owned the world and everything in it. Now half of them aren't even doctors let alone surgeons. She did her best to teach them, to teach everyone who walked through those doors. But what has she gotten in return? The mommy track.

Sometimes she wishes she could disappear and stay in surgery forever. She loves the feeling, the adrenaline, and the rush of someone being saved from the perils of death. Five years ago she didn't mind that Shepherd was picked as the chief, as long as it wasn't Sloan. But two years ago when Shepherd appointed Montgomery-Sloan to take his position she was enraged. Sure she was still young, and had things to learn but she was groomed for that position. And she likes her old/new boss well enough but, that position is supposed to be hers. Tucker reminds her every night that she complains that it will be hers soon enough. Then he begs hers to stop talking about work. Sometimes she wishes that he could understand the physical, emotional, and mental difficulties of her job. But she knows he can not relate. So they bond over their son. Their son who was seven years in the making. Who was born on an all too eventful day, and they are grateful to still have something in common. Their son, the one she has missed out on the most. Sometimes she feels as though she knows her patients better than her own child, and it shoves her into a deep and bitter pit of regret and remorse. Tucker got to see all of the "firsts" and she is jealous. Marriage is difficult at best she tells herself. It isn't that she doesn't love him, because she does, more than anything in the world. But she wishes he could understand her better.

Sometimes she thinks of how life could have been so much easier if she would've not gotten married so young. But she quickly shoves the thought to the back of her mind and knows that she wouldn't have it any other way. All of her work qualms aside she is pretty happy. Not that she would admit it to anyone that wasn't a close and personal friend. Miranda Bailey does not get put into the gossip cauldron, oh no. And if she did, she may kill the person who started it. She is the Nazi after all, and will remain so. Even when she is the chief and she will be the chief. She knows that Montgomery-Sloan isn't happy and is waiting until the day she cracks under the pressure. Waiting for the day she can take her properly appointed throne in the corner office on the third floor overlooking what has become her home away from home, her sanctuary.

* * *

It has been five years. Five years since he walked away from the love of his life, his job. Five years since he handed over the gig to his prodigy, who promptly handed it right back. After some persuading he was able to convince Shepherd that is was best he take the job. He had things he needed to do. Things he should've have been doing for years he now realizes. Being with his wife, the most amazing person he has ever met. Sometimes he wonders how in the world she could've stuck by him through everything only to walk away because of his job. He guesses it was more a culmination of things stemming from his job. But either way it doesn't matter because he has gotten her back now, and he is happy. Was happy in the beginning anyway. These days he is going a little stir crazy with the woman. She has suggested he take up hobbies. It isn't easy for him to sit around and do nothing, he was the chief. He likes the sheer rush of everyday life in a hospital, and he misses it more than he missed his wife.

He checks in occasionally with them, enough to know his other favorite surgeon is now the Chief. She is doing a great job there, but he can't help but think he can do better. She gets too attached, and even after his lesson she still hasn't fully grasped the concept. But this is for the better, he knows that. Five years ago he lost his only child. They tried, she tried to save him but she couldn't. While he was sad, he was almost grateful. It was the thing that led him back to her. He needed her then, still does today. She is his stability, his rock. Three years ago he relapsed badly. A few years off the job, and getting stuck playing golf every other day with people he didn't particularly enjoy drove him back to the bottle. She stayed with him again, to his surprise and dismay. She threw his ass back into rehab and now he has been clean for 2 years, 7 months, 43 days, 6 hours, and 19 minutes. Yes, he counts. He misses drinking. He has a disease; he knows it isn't just an addiction anymore. He is sick. Literally and figuratively. He knows all the medical scenarios and possible outcomes for his cirrhosis of the liver, but he remains skeptical. It is difficult for him to hold on to faith when life has proven him wrong so many times already.

Four years ago, reeling from the death of their son that would never be she suggested they adopt. They looked into several agencies, and even filled out the paperwork. But after a few short months of looking they came to an understanding that they would never have children, their opportunity was lost. They were too old, and he was too sick now. It wouldn't be right to bring a child into the world that could possibly, only have a father for a matter of years. So instead they spoil the only granddaughter they have ever known rotten. They take her for weekends trips, shopping, and out to the park with what had become the closest thing to a daughter they would ever get, Meredith. Life is twisted he thought, but Derek has always been like a son so he supposes that it works itself out.

Oh, the tangled webs we weave in hospitals he laughs. He knows all too well. Sometimes he wishes he could disappear from his mundane world and go back to work. He liked his job, he hates his life. It taunts him. It flaunts everything he could've had in front of his face everyday. But he rushes home to her anyway; she is all he has got. Tonight he rushes a little too fast. And as he hears the screeching sirens and sees the red and blue swirling lights above him somewhere, he knows. As they pull his mangled body from his SUV with the Jaws of Life, he is certain. As he fights a losing battle with his body to stay conscious, he is 100 sure. And as he manages to mutter out to a young paramedic, "Tell my wife I love her", it all becomes clear. This is how it ends; this is how it all ends. This is how he goes, how fitting. How appropriate.


	4. M

Disclaimer: I don't own them.. yadda yadda blah blah... don't sue.

A/N: As of right now I have nothing beyond this. I am thinking of doing either a three year aftershot of this. Or perhaps going in reverse about ten years and having them compare what they had then to what they have now and so on. Also, I could pick it up from here and make it an AU fic. If anyone has any ideas/suggestions/requests to stop, let me know! Xyli

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It has been five years. Five whole years he has had with her, well technically four. Five years, and all he has to show for it is a broken heart. Five years ago he chased her when she went to L.A. for a new life. He knows now that that wasn't the best idea he had ever had. But it ranks right up there with falling in love with his best friend's wife. He still has no clue how he got her to come back with him. He got her to start over. They needed it, he needed her. He was miserable when she left. He felt like he was missing a piece of himself. He couldn't function, so he got her back. A lot of good that did, he smirks as he slams his office door. As he sits down in his soft leather chair he remembers their wedding. It was beautiful, albeit a little extravagant. He remembers the way her hair fell against her shoulders. The way she smiled at him as she walked down the aisle. The way she looked at him when she said the two words that still make his heart flutter, "I do". It wasn't what she wanted, she had already done the big wedding thing, but he hadn't. It was his chance, his chance to have her.

Putting his feet up on his desk he questions the day, he questions everything with her now. Maybe when she was walking up the aisle she was smiling at Derek, maybe she was looking over his shoulder when she said "I do". He knows it is ridiculous, but he can't shake the thoughts. Two years ago when she got pregnant, he knew. She didn't tell him, and he didn't ask. He knew what she was going to do. He feels like he knows her better than himself. Staring down at a picture of the three of them from their wedding day he wants to punch Derek in the face. And then not fix it. He wants him to feel all the pain he has when his wife flirts with him. She thinks he doesn't notice. He does. He notices everything; always has. He was the observant one of the three. He notices the way he still brings her juju. He notices the way she looks when she watches him from the gallery. He notices the way they still stand too close to each other when they talk. He wanted to chalk that one up to them being together for so long, but it isn't the truth. The truth is his wife still isn't over her ex, and it is eating him alive. On the nights she does come home to sleep she curls up in a ball on the edge of the bed so he can't reach her. She nods and says ok to questions that aren't yes or no.

He can't remember when it all started but he was thankful for the day they moved back to New York. At last a real chance for them to try without him around. Things were better for a short period of time. She would talk to him, cuddle, watch TV, and otherwise act like his wife, like the woman he married four years ago. He misses her now, she isn't that person anymore. He knew he couldn't deny her the job of her dreams, so they packed it all up and came running back. He hates his ex-best friend for what he did to him, to her. She isn't happy here ever anymore, so he recommended she try some anti-depressants. He was at his wits ends with ideas on how to fix her. They don't work, he knows why. He has all but given up on the idea of them being happy together. Sometimes she will smile or kiss him out of habit and he can still feel the twinge, the burn. It makes it all the more worse. Sometimes he wants to disappear back to New York, cut his loses and move the hell on with life. But he can't, he wouldn't dare. He would miss her too much. Because even if she is in love with her ex, he is still her husband and he wouldn't hurt her again. He talks with Meredith about locking them in a room together. She says nothing would happen, but he knows if they were in there long enough something would. He used to think about asking Burke to cut out his heart and replace with anything else, a piece of scrap metal would work. He is so tired of feeling this way.

As he takes his feet off the desk and buries his head in his hands he realizes they have intervals. Intervals where she won't let him touch her, and then to the extreme opposite. He reasons that she is trying to make the void lessen by having insane amounts of sex. He didn't always mind, but now it isn't the same as it once was. He feels used. These days he spends a lot of time in his office. In his office he doesn't have to see them together. In his office no one tries to soothe his hurt pride and broken heart. In his office he can lock everyone out, literally. Everything is better in the office, he repeats in his head. Somehow trying to convince himself that this mantra will make him feel better. Nothing works; death would probably feel better than this. He lifts his head off his hands as he hears the door open and curses at himself for not locking it. As soon as he sees her he knows he can't do it. He loves the way she stands there with her hands on her hips and an angry scowl working its way across her face. He knows he can't lock everyone out, he can't lock her out.


	5. 10 years  Addison

Disclaimer: See all of the previous ones if you don't get it yet :)

A/N: Ok the game plan is the characters are still in the present (five years from now) but they are looking back on their lives. Specifically about 10 years ago. I hope this isn't too confusing. The writing should clear it up better than I can articulate. Let me know what you think! Xyli

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She hates that she doesn't want to be near him. She hates that he would instantly settle for any amount of time she would give him. She hates that he would be okay with going shopping with her, if it meant he could see her. She hates that she feels like the worst wife ever. She hates being the failure that she knows she is. Tonight, she is avoiding going home. Dreading going home. She spends most of her nights in on-call rooms hoping for a run in with her ex. It is wrong, she knows it. It consumes her. He has always had this effect on her. She was happy ten years ago. Ten years ago, such a long time she muses as she shakes her head. It feels like another lifetime. She isn't that person anymore. Not by a long shot. She was happy ten years ago. Every now and then she likes to think about what it was like being married to him. She likes to daydream of the good old days. Days when things were uncomplicated, and carefree. At least, as carefree as the life of a surgeon can be.

She chucks aside the thoughts of when her marriage started to landslide. Refuses to think about the night with Mark and everything with him since then. If she can push all of that aside she remembers a time when she was truly happy. Genuinely at her best. Her best was with him. Yet another shameful memory. She shouldn't remember these things; she shouldn't like to think of them. But ten years ago she was the happiest person in the world. She would give both of her hands to go back to that time. She would give both of her feet if she could go back and save their marriage. Try harder, make him talk, figure out what went wrong. None of it is possible, she is well aware. But somewhere along the lines her reality, dreams, and memories of better times got blurred. They are intertwined and tangled with one another. She can't have one without the others. They are painfully snared and twisted together. Ten years ago they were residents. Happily married residents. They were "Addison & Derek", or "Derek & Addison" he would always argue. Nothing could stop them; nothing could bring them down as long as they had one another. She felt like she could conquer the world. And she did, at least her professional one. But he struggled and faltered at times in his climb. Every so often she wonders if this was their downfall. She hates to think the thing that brought them together in the beginning ended up being their demise. She always wanted to question when the downhill slide began; she did try. Frustrated with never getting an answer she set out and found her own solution. The cost was high, and the victory short lived. She hurt herself, him, and her current husband. The kind of hurt; the kind of brokenness one does not readily recover from.

She can't fix him, their marriage, let alone herself. There are things she could do to make it easier on them. Things to make their days go smoother. But she won't. He deserves the answers to the questions he asks. It would be the least she could do, she thinks. Actually the least she could do would be to clean up her act and stop talking, flirting, and staring at her ex. He deserves better than her, and she hates herself for it. Her pit of despair brings on fits of endless depression. But he stays, he always stays with her. At her worst, in her darkest hours he has been there. He has seen it all with her, except happiness.

Tonight as she crawls to "her spot" on the edge of the bed and curls into a ball, she ponders giving him happiness. What it would take for her to be happy. One can't stay depressed, bitter, and remorseful all of the time, it is exhausting. As he reaches for her, she relents for the night and lets him pull her back into his chest. She can't help but think how wrong it feels in his arms. It felt right once, but not anymore. She was looking to replace someone that was and is irreplaceable in her life. She hates that she has settled for what she now knows is second best. It is a cruel vicious cycle and she feels caught. She is locked in her own hell. As he leans over, kisses her temple, and whispers how much he loves her she wonders if all she ever needed to do was give him a real chance. Maybe she can be happy again, like she was ten years ago. Maybe happier. So tonight as she drifts off to sleep, embraced by his tight hug, she tries to dream of them. Being together, laughing with him, making memories with him, and only wanting her husband. But this option proves exhausting too. So instead she resorts to trying to figure out which is the lesser of the two evils that keeps her awake at night. Which one would be easier to manage and resolve. It will be another sleepless night in his arms. Ten years ago she would have been asleep.


	6. 10 years Cristina

Disclaimer: Don't own them. Wish I did. Wish I was creative enough to come up with them, but I am not. So don't sue me.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, I hope I get more. I am still on the fence about how I choose to continue this fic, so if anyone has any thoughts let me know!

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She hates her son. She hates her unborn daughter. Hell, she even hates herself. She hates that she hates herself. She hates that she even can have these sorts of feelings. Ten years ago, she wouldn't have felt like this. Ten years ago she wouldn't have become hung up on some stupid man who stopped her world and showed her something so much brighter. Tonight she is giving her son a bath, and trying to breathe the beginning of contractions. As if pretending they aren't there changes the fact that she will soon have to give birth. She can't believe she is even considering believing they don't exist. Ten years ago she wouldn't have done that. Ten years ago she was free. Tied and bound only by school. She was excited by the prospect of going. She had been working her whole life towards it. And slowly, after much effort her dream was emerging. She was so close she could taste it. She can't figure out why she stayed in California to go to med school. She had offers from everywhere. Everyone wanted her, Cristina Yang, to bring what she could to their school. But she gave in to her annoying, and now ever helpful, mother and stayed where she belonged. That would in turn end up shaking her world in ways she didn't know was possible. She wonders what would have happened if she would have accepted an offer from anywhere other than Seattle. Sometime she regrets moving to the rain capitol of the world. But at the time it suited her. She needed something as drab and serious as she was. She needed to stay focused, but life had some other plans. Until him, she never believed.

Ten years ago she didn't believe in something bigger than medicine, that sort of thing couldn't exist. But he showed her, patiently as always, that life does as it pleases and we are only bystanders. She has reverted back to original thinking these days that in this shitty world there is nothing that has anything to do with fate. She chalks coincidences up to stupid mistakes, and unfortunate chains of events. Unfortunate that she found love once again and lost it, painfully. She is beginning to lose herself. She thinks she is losing her mind, but she supposes that it is only part of the grieving process. If she could, she would take a pill to speed this process right along. As she washes her son's black curly hair and shields his eyes from the soapy mixture on her hands, she realizes that she has no idea on how to move forward. It has been about a month, and she hasn't recovered. She hasn't even come to terms with the fact that he is gone. Breathing through another contraction she thinks, he is gone, really really gone. No more trumpet playing to our son, no more bedtime stories with the three of us, no more stealing his scrub caps, no more anything.

She hates the thought so much she can hardly breathe and grips the edge of the porcelain white tub firmly. As her shaking hands dial her mother's familiar number she knows that the last ten years were not a complete waste. If anything, she has a relationship with a woman she once despised with every ounce of her being. Some things were a complete waste, including the mess she is going to have to deal with sooner or later. Ten years ago she would have refused to believe that some silly and wonderful man would ruin all of her hopes and dreams. That he would be able to shoot down everything she ever wanted to do and be. That he would change her irrevocably. She winces as they stroll her down the corridor of the hospital where he husband died. The spot where she stood next to elevator completely out of her mind trying not to pass out. Ten years ago she would not have been beside herself with emotion; she would have neatly tucked them away and saved them for another time. This is not one of those times. She lets the tears fall freely as they enter the elevator. She wants to blame it all on the pain of labor, and the emotion of pregnancy. But that is about the furthest she can get from the truth. She cries for him, for herself. She cries because she is finally realizing how permanent their position has become. She cries because she knows that he will never touch her, hold her, talk to her, sing to her, or play with her. As the doors fling open and she is wheeled towards a rather exhausted looking chief she cries because she can't get any of it back, and the memories of him are beginning to slip her mind. Ten years ago, this would have been the furthest possible scenario she could come up with for her life. She cries because she wants so badly to go back to ten years ago.


	7. 10 years Alex

Disclaimer: See others if you are still confused and want to sue me.

A/N: Alrighty here is Alex, a bit depressing but hey so are the other ones. I live for reviews! Ok, not true... but I do love them just the same. Enjoy! Xyli

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He has nothing to hate except himself. He hates that fact; it stands alone. He hates what he has done to himself in the last ten years, really his whole life. It is a terrifying never-ending carousel ride that he can't get off of. Sometimes he wonders that if, at any point in his life, he had been shown some sort of working model of what a relationship could be he wouldn't be so damned. All he knows is that it isn't supposed to be like this. He isn't supposed to spend tonight drinking mass quantities of alcohol in the hopes that someone he knows will walk through those two doors and tell him not to leave. As he shifts on his all too familiar barstool his reality recognizes that it will not happen. He has been too effective. Too meticulous, too callous in his ways. He has spent a lifetime shoving people away who have any interest in him. At first he didn't understand it; he thought it was purely how the world worked. If his own father didn't love him enough to sober up and be a dad, then certainly no one else would care. If his own mother wasn't strong enough to stand up for herself, then that must just be how life goes. It took years for someone to finally convince him, Alex Karev, that that wasn't the way things worked. And when they did, when they opened his eyes, he became filled with rage. A lot of questions stemming from: Why me?, were aroused. He fixed the "problem" and about seven years after that, and he learned he only had made it worse.

Ten years ago he broke off what was the most stable relationship he had ever had with another human being. She was his college girlfriend. For three years she pressed him and molded him into someone so much better than he ever thought he could be. She was a psychology major, which in hindsight should have sent red flags up. He rationalizes now by saying that she probably only kept him around to study, god knows he is an interesting one. But after some pushing, persuading and prodding he came to trust her and let her in. She knew him better than anyone else ever will. He's going to make sure that he never lets anyone in like that again. Because damn did it hurt when they parted ways. These days he still gets the familiar twinge to let someone in and spill his guts, but he pushes it further down with the help of his new best friend vodka. Ten years ago he wasn't one for hard alcohol, but now it is the only thing that seems to work. Ten years ago he didn't even drink except on the rare occasion that she drug him out to a party. He was focused, precise, and ready for anything the world could throw at him. As long as he had her, he knew he could take it on. Then it happened. Ten years ago he fathered a child. He was sent into a dizzy frenzy of emotion. He was excited, thrilled, and scared out of his mind. It wasn't deliberate but not necessarily unwanted. He had planned to spend the rest of his life with her. Ten years ago he was ready to drop his plans of medical school and join the collared work force. He didn't care, whatever they needed he was going to provide. He was ready then. Looking back, he shouldn't have been. He never could've predicted what happened next. It left him broken, and scarred for life. He still thinks of her, she reminds him of the patient he fell in love with. Ten years ago when his mind was reeling from the surprise of a lifetime she walked away. She left him, she didn't want him anymore. Left without a word, like a movie, into the dark. As he pops a bar nut into his mouth and chomps down he wonders if he actually has a kid out there somewhere. He wishes he had someway to get a hold of her, kids deserve a father.

Ten years ago he did the only thing he could do given the situation. He threw it all into the only thing he had left; medical school. The people looking in on his life often wonder how he could push it all away for the job. How he could have no other life. But if they knew, if they knew his story, they wouldn't wonder at all. As he slams a fifty down on the bar for Joe he knows it isn't supposed to go like this. She taught him that much. So in a few short days he is leaving, like she did. Like they all do. Everything he touches runs from him. It is a curse and a blessing of sorts. Ten years ago he thought that he would have a life by now, but all he has is a job waiting for him in a foreign town. But he is determined as ever, as always. He will change his outcome, it is his time. Ten years ago he thought his number was called. He was young and naïve, but now, now he stands a fair chance. He is going to throw it all up, light it on fire, and watch as it sparkles to the ground. He will find something in the wreckage that has become his soul. As he walks out the door into the rainy and uncrowned street he thinks of her, the baby, and how it all could have been so simple a mere ten years ago.


	8. 10 years Izzie

Disclaimer: Whatever we all know I don't own them. This story is so AU it would never make it on the air.

A/N: I have a few more of these done already. But anyway thanks for reading, and Derek is next. Enjoy Xyli

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She hates her entire existence. She hates that she has no reason to hate any of it. She doesn't necessarily hate her children; they just came a little sooner than she had planned. She doesn't hate that she is married; she hates the man with whom her legally binding vows are shared. She hates that tonight she is standing with her three year old children in the middle of baggage claim in the SeaTac Airport. She hates that her ridiculous husband insisted that he picked up at 10 at night instead of taking a cab. She curses the airlines and the weather for what has become an eternity of a delay. She hates that her son can't stop pestering her daughters long enough for her to string together one single coherent thought. She is thinking of packing up the kids, or at this point even leaving them, and jumping on a plane to anywhere. Ten years ago these horrible thoughts wouldn't have flooded her mind. She was an optimist, was being the operative word. Ten years ago she had just re-signed her modeling contract and was headed toward medical school. Ten years ago she didn't need anyone to do a damn thing for her. She had made it, carved her name out. Made it through under-grad on her own, gave her daughter a better life, and was constructing a line of attack on making hers better. But now she needs him, in a way she never wanted to need anyone in her life. He controls everything, not that he knows it. Or maybe he does. That would make a little more sense; she laughs out loud as people stare on at her circus of a life. Everything she is forced to do and not do; its outcomes involve him. She wishes she was as strong as she was ten years ago. Back then she would tell anyone who would listen that she, Izzie Stevens, was going to be the next best surgeon.

Ten years ago she was well on her way, now she is at a stand still. A face-off with the one person who is supposed to be supporting her. She is now alienated from everything she used to have, and everyone she used to know. As she stares down a few carousels she sees a young mother and vaguely remembers hearing something about her friend Meredith having a child shortly after the triplets were born. She hasn't managed to find the time to sneak out and see them. Looking down at her shoes she doesn't understand when it started falling apart. Technically, it was the sham idea of a marriage to someone she would never love. But in actuality it wasn't all awful. She supposes it was about a year and a half ago. The day he "accidentally" struck her during an argument was the day she realized that she no longer had any form of power over her own life. It was an unhurried and now looking back, gut-wrenching progression of pushing her away from every single thing she held to be true. He would insist they stay in and have family time, or purposely schedule over her so that she couldn't make her original plans. It was low, dirty, and it worked like magic. So well that she didn't have a clue what was going on until she slammed an ice-pack into the hard counter-top and pushed it gently over her bright red eye. As the numbing sensation took over half of her face it gradually took over her heart as well. She shut down that day, stopped trying. The only reason she was still there was her children. Over ten years ago she wasn't this weak individual that now seems to have coiled itself tightly around her soul and squeezes relentlessly.

Ten years ago she would have been screaming, clinging, and fighting for her children's existences. As she watches her son hit the top of her daughter's head with both of his fists she knows it has gone too far. As her daughter comes rushing over to her screaming, with tears pouring out of her eyes she knows it is time to go. She feels a rush of energy and a sense of drive she hasn't experienced in years. Her children will not grow up with an abusive father. She will not tolerate him touching her kids, not that he has, but it is only a matter of time. As she swoops down and grabs Hayley she checks her watch. She knows he won't be landing for at least another hour. And as she grabs Hannah's hand and yells at Hunter to hold on to his sister tightly, she knows she won't be sticking around long enough to find out. As they train their way out of the revolving door she fishes around for her cell phone, and dials a distantly familiar number. Her mind is reeling, her adrenaline is pumping and she is praying he picks up his phone. Praying that his number hasn't changed. She hasn't felt this way in a long time, and as soon as she manages to get all of her kids strapped in he finally picks up. Tonight it is finished. Over. She won't be having any more conversations over custody, no more exchanging blows over women's rights. Tonight she has found all the strength she had ten years ago, and she is leaving him once and for all. She refuses to be stuck.


	9. 10 years Derek

Disclaimer: Don't own them, wish I did. I'd be loaded.

A/N: I am unsure how I really fell about this one. Let me know what you think, and Callie is up next. Xyli

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He hates the way he looks at her. Better yet he hates the way he feels when he looks at her. Or when she looks at him. He hates the way it feels when he looks at his wife. He hates that he can't seem to do anything but hurt everyone around him, save one very special little girl. As he watches Jen, or Jennibug as he calls her, sleep while leaning up against the doorway he remembers ten years ago dreaming of having a little girl with someone else. He used to daydream of what their children would look like, her hair of course, maybe his smile, but most importantly they would be theirs. Ten years ago he was happily married to someone he never saw himself walking away from. Now he is married to someone who he thinks about leaving everyday. He feels bad, because if he had to be honest with himself then he would have to say that she is nothing short of wonderful. As he quietly tiptoes down the hall towards their dark and cold room he knows that she takes amazing care of their daughter. Even though he had his doubts about her being a mother she has done nothing to affirm his fears. She was a natural as it turned out. She learned how to cook, she knows what he likes and dislikes, knows what he is thinking before he can think it. She is everything he ever wanted in a woman, but she isn't the one.

Ten years ago while working on his career his wife surpassed him. He never had any question in his mind that she was a better doctor and person than him, but it still took him by surprise how quickly she came into her own. It irked him in a way. Not that he wasn't proud, he was just jealous. There were hundreds of neurosurgeons out there but there were not hundreds of multi-specialty ob/gyns. Sometimes he thinks that his pride and ego were their downfall. He would gladly admit it and plead out his heart if he could only have a second chance now. As his slips his sweater over his head and shivers while reaching for an undershirt he remembers ten years ago. When they would snuggle under their down comforter and watch the snow fall from their window. He misses the quiet times with her. When no words were needed. They already knew what each other was thinking. These days he has no idea what his wife thinks about. He used to try; he put in an honest effort to better their relationship, even after he realized that he was still in love with his ex. But as he climbs into his sweats and makes a bee line towards his side of the bed he knows he has all but given up. Ten years ago after a rough shift she would wait around the hospital so they could ride home together while he sipped his juju. His has no idea what his current wife's schedule is. He isn't even sure how his daughter makes it home from daycare some days. All he knows is that if she needs him, she will find him. As he carefully slips into bed as to not arouse her, not that it is an easy task, he tries to remember being happy. He knows he was, and he isn't quite sure when it slipped out of his grasp. He had to have been happy with her a least once, why else would he leave his wife for an intern? As he rolls around and struggles to find a comfortable position he wonders if he gave it a shot, they could be a happy family. Probably not he reasons as a loud snore escapes the other side of the bed, his heart isn't in it anymore. Tonight he isn't even going to bother with earplugs. He isn't at home at night very often anymore but when he is he knows that sleep will be hard to come by. He wonders if his ex still thinks of him, if she can sleep at night. She looks tortured most days so his guess is more than likely that she gets about as much sleep as he does.

As he settles for a spot on his stomach he glances over at his sleeping wife. She doesn't deserve this, she doesn't deserve this atrocious distorted version of himself. He can't figure out why she sticks around. Maybe it isn't as obvious as he thinks it is. Maybe no one else can see how he feels about his ex. But he hears the talk; gossip travels faster than the speed of light at that hospital. Once one person knows everyone does. So if she knows she isn't saying anything. There is no way she could be happy. As he flips over onto his back and slams a pillow over his face he prays to god that his pager will go off so he doesn't have to spend the morning with her. What a unspeakable thought he curses. Maybe he should just head in now to get an early start on tomorrow, technically today he corrects himself as he rolls onto his side impatiently. No, tonight he will lay awake for at least four more hours cursing the gods for this form of punishment, get up, kiss his wife, wake his daughter, help her get ready, and make his way for work. He hates his life. He wants to go back ten years and do it the right way. Because ten years ago he would have been asleep by her side.


	10. 10 years Callie

Disclaimer: They aren't mine obviously.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! And this one deals with difficult adult situations... or something, I dont know I feel like it needs its own disclaimer. So there you have it, you have been warned.Xyli

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She hates her existence in its current state. She hates that she lives in a bed. She hates that no matter how hard she tries she can't seem to die. She hates that her memory is crystal clear while the visions in front of her tonight are as blurry as the fog that has pasted itself to a windowless night. She loathes that she is alive. She has made a point of hating everything in the last few years. Ten years ago she, Calliope Torres, hated very few people. And she was completely justified in hating the ones she did. Ten years ago she was an intern at Seattle Presbyterian. She was the only female in a man's club. They perused, prowled, aggravated, and pushed her until she almost broke. Shortly after finishing her stint there she transferred. It was an unfortunate accident and incidental lawsuit involving her and a co-worker but nonetheless one of them had to move on. He was subsequently let go from the program and banned from ever working as a doctor anywhere. She maintained, she stayed stable and strong, and got out alive with most of her dignity intact. She decided ten years ago not to rush around trying to find a man. And tonight as the never-ending chill sets into her body she wishes that she never would have met him. Wishes she hadn't been the ortho resident on-call when he fell down a flight of stairs. Wishes she hadn't spent a ridiculous amount of time trying to get him to call her. She should have known the whole thing was pointless. She should've known that her marriage would be the biggest waste of time her life would ever be graced enough to see. In retrospect, as she painfully tries to sit up, she should've done a lot of things differently. She should have let the whole thing disintegrate when she found out about his affair. But damn her pride and stubbornness, she fought for what she had legally claimed as hers. Ten years ago she would have ran as fast as her feet could carry her. She knew better, still does. She should be stronger than weeping alone tonight. He should have been weaker than leaving her home. She hates that he still goes to work and pretends like nothing is wrong. Everything is wrong she thinks as she tries to stifle the sobs from bringing the onset of a migraine. It doesn't help; they have become uncontrollable. Like everything else her body does now.

Ten years ago she was a control freak. Everything her way, no surprises. Tonight, as she wipes her tears and tries to not look at what she has become in the mirror hanging opposite their bed, she feels like cancer is the cruelest joke nature can play. This life. It picked her, it choose her long before she decided what she wanted. It was pre-determined she mutters as she attempts to shift her feet out from under the blankets that do little to shield her from the disease's icy blasts. If she would have known ten years ago what she would be like tonight she would have asked someone to just kill her then and there. Because tonight she has sent him away with the vague hope that when he returns from the store she will eat for the first time in days. Tonight she has it planned. Tonight she will do it her way. Tonight, as she slowly shuffles to kitchen, she will be in control of her life again. Ten years ago these thoughts that occupy every waking second in her mind would have been unimaginable. Selfish even. She would have never been contemplating the value of her own life. Ten years ago she wouldn't have literally sat with a pen and paper while her husband was at work, and attempted to scratch out a pro/con list on staying alive. Because who in their right mind does that? She wishes right now that she didn't need him as badly as she does. She wishes that she could be self-sufficient like she was ten years ago. And that is how tonight, dumping out the bottle of pain medication onto the table, has become her reality. As she stares down at the tiny blue pills scattered everywhere in front of her she contemplates leaving a suicide note. But she can't think of anything to say in it that everyone doesn't already know. Cancer should have taken her months ago and instead it has let her linger somewhere above the depths of an unknown hell for utterly too long. As she begins to feel the smooth diminutive pills slide down her throat she hopes he will understand. As she swallows a few more she hopes he will feel relieved. Finally after what feels like an eternity they start to take effect. And as she finally begins to feel the pain lift from her body once and for all she hopes that maybe he can go back to living like he did ten years ago.


	11. 10 years Meredith

Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously this would never ever happen in the show.

A/N: Ok, so I try really hard to like Meredith. And I had to change her a little, and make her stronger than she is in canon to do it. Maybe someday she will be like this...doubtful, but I try to maintain hope. Enjoy! Xyli

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She hates that she can't remember the last time they touched. She hates that she can't remember the last time he came home at a decent hour to spend time with them. She hates that he isn't there for her anymore. She hates that he would rather spend time with his old flame than pick his daughter up from daycare. She hates that every time there is a problem in her life now it is because of him. More than ten years ago she didn't need anyone. She was on her own, and needed no one to tell her what to do, where to do it, and when to have it done by. Ten years ago she had a major blowout with her hoax of a mother and ended up in Europe. She hopes desperately that things don't end up like that with Jen. Ten years ago she was walking through the streets of Italy without a care in the world. She decided to put everything behind her. Bad mother, missing father, horrible ex-boyfriends, ex-friends, everyone. She was going to start over. Tonight as she cleans up dinner and watches Jen play in the living room she wonders if starting over again is an option. As she scrapes the leftovers into a bowl from his untouched plate she knows he won't even bother to eat when he comes home. If he comes home. He said he would be there for dinner and yet again and he was mysteriously absent. Ten years ago she thought that making dinner plans was ridiculous. She ate when she pleased with who she pleased. At the time it was a scruffy looking gentleman by the name of Marco. He was unlike any other boy she had met. Mostly because she had pink hair, black nails, a surly attitude and boys had a tendency to steer clear. But not him, he wasn't afraid of the tough exterior she put up. But she had made a point of not letting anyone in again. She had had enough people waltz in and out of her life to know that inviting him in was only going to bring on the pain. And then he happened. He threw her world for a loop when he strolled over with his gorgeous locks and piercing blue eyes and proclaimed that he was just a boy in a bar.

Ten years ago she would have laughed in his face and promptly turned around. But there was something about being back in the rainy hell that she called home that changed her. The memories of a semi-better time made her weak. Made her long for something, anything, anyone to stick around. Someone to watch her life and to be proud of what she was doing. So she let him in, as foolish of an idea as it seemed. It promptly backfired as she knew it would, and then she let him in again. Ten years ago she would have known that people revolve in slowly spinning patterns, and she should have seen the whole thing coming. It wasn't like no one warned her. She warned herself. But instead her she sits tonight alone curled up in a ball on the couch with her daughter snuggling as the screen flickers scenes from the life of a fish. And as they dance, sing, and swim she watches her daughter crack into fits of giggles and snuggle closer to her. Ten years ago she never pictured herself with a child of any kind, and now she can't imagine her life without her. She can, however, picture their life without him. So tonight as she holds her daughter close and listens as her breathing patter begins to slow and she doses off she take comfort in knowing. Comfort in knowing that there are divorce papers sitting on the table for him.

Ten years ago she never saw herself married, let alone divorced. But right now, as she carries her daughter up the stairs, she knows there is no other choice. She isn't going to wussy out like his ex that she has grown to hate yet again. She won't give him the option of sticking around this time. As the tears slide slowly down her cheek as he climbs into bed she knows there is no hope. As he flops around next to her she pretends to sleep. Because sleeping now has become so much easier than having actual conversation with him. If she could go back to ten years ago she probably wouldn't have left Venice. It wasn't such a bad place, maybe she will return there. As he settles for his stomach she tries to dream of a new life, like it was ten years ago.


	12. 10 years George

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: Difficult subject matter once again... and I am trying paragraph breaks to help stimulate the eyes. Thanks for reading and reviewing! Xyli

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He hates the way he feels about his wife. He hates the way his house smells like death. He hates the way he feels like he is on a roller-coaster with no brakes. He hates how she unintentionally toys with his emotions. He hates how he can be crying one second as he watches her sleep and then trying to crack a joke with her as soon as her eyes open. He hates how fake he has become. Ten years ago he wasn't fake. He, George O'Malley didn't do fake. He didn't even know how to. Things were simpler ten years ago when he entered med. school down in Oregon. He left home to attend a better school and thought he was making all the right choices in life. Ten years ago he was timid and shy, but now she has beaten that out of him and he has no other emotion left but anger. Ten years ago his family would tease him about being a doctor and how he should work at the shop with Jerry but it isn't what he wanted. He knew enough to know that saving lives is what he was supposed to be doing with the rest of his life. Now, tonight he can't even save his own wife. It eats at him slowly day by day, and he feels like he is going to crack under the pressure. Crack under the pressure and do what? He has no idea. But he knows he is on edge. Tonight he is strolling down the grocery store aisle because she has told him to go get food. She isn't going to eat, he knows this. He knows she is tired of eating and would just as soon starve to death then let the unrelenting cancer take her. She tells him it is going too leisurely, it isn't supposed to creep on like this leaving them hanging from a thread of sanity. They are tearing each other apart. Mostly she is tearing him up. As he grabs a cold can of chicken noodle soup he thinks that maybe she knows what she is doing to him. Playing some sick little mind game so that she can have some form of control. "Sounds like something she would do", he mutters as he makes his way to the checkout line.

Ten years ago he wouldn't have envisioned himself taking care of his dying wife at the tender age of 33. You aren't supposed to bury your first wife before you reach the top of the hill. Ten years ago he didn't even imagine he would be married right now. He always assumed he would find the right woman and settle down some day, he just thought that he would be well into his attending years before it happened. He was in no hurry, no rush at all. But she was. She set in motion this whole thing. As he throws the money down on the counter and glares at the innocent checker he thinks that this is all her fault. He shouldn't have to be doing this. As he slams the car door and abrasively clicks his seatbelt he thinks of just how unfair life really is. Ten years ago he never thought about his dad dying. It was naïve but he thought, back then anyway, that his dad would be around forever. He knows now that people aren't around forever. As he jams the key into the ignition and turns it over he knows that they aren't even here when they are physically present. He wants to stop smiling at everyone when they ask how he is doing. He wants to stop being so god damn optimistic and saying that maybe she will pull out of this to everyone who doesn't know the grave situation they are in. Rationally, he knows she didn't pick this but is doesn't help him feel any less trapped in the muck. Irrationally he runs with anger. It doesn't soothe him in any way but it doesn't make the knife in his chest twist either so it works.

Tonight, as he trudges out of the car and up the steps he is dreading being home with her. If he had to be honest with someone, at least himself, he knows that he would give his own sight if he could go back ten years and not ever know her. Because he isn't strong enough for this and all it does is remind him of his father's unexpected and startling death. Tonight, as he makes his way into the kitchen his eyes lock in horror. He drops the grocery bag and crashes down upon his knees. He reaches for her wrist to get a pulse but is smart enough to know that there won't be one. It doesn't stop him. He checks for breathing sounds as he rolls her lifeless body over. As he puts his ear to her mouth in vague hope; he thinks "it isn't, it can't be". It isn't her time. All of the relief that he was supposed to feel when this night finally came isn't there. Suddenly, as he scoots away from her the waves of guilt set in. He can't find relief anywhere as his eyes dart to the table and see the tiny strewn blue pills. As he rolls back onto his heels he feels sick to his stomach. He eyes bounce furiously from the table, to her, and back to the table. Trying to make some sense of the situation that he has been trapped in tonight. His mind is reeling as he feels another wave of nausea hit. He shouldn't have gone to the store; he should have stayed with her. Should have held her hand, should have told her that it was all going to be alright and that she didn't have to do this. It didn't have to end like this. He should have loved her more instead of displacing it all with anger. He thinks a million what ifs and should haves as he tries to make it to his wobbly feet. Right now; as he falls into a sobbing heap over her dead body, in the midst of all the guilt swarming through his mind, and while all he can manage to etch out of his constricted throat is no! no! no!; he only wishes that he could take back all those thoughts he had tonight of ten years ago.


	13. 10 years Miranda

Disclaimer: Yup still not mine. I don't even want them anymore, I want something better!

A/N: I don't really know how I feel about this one, but I had to come up with somethin so let me know what you think! Xyli

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She hates coming home to a destroyed house. She hates that Tucker can't manage to ever pick up after himself or their son. She hates that after a 12 hour day and 7 hours on-call she has to come home and clear a path to even make it to her bed so she can crash. She hates that the times when she sees her son he is almost always asleep. Ten years ago they were trying to have a child. Ten years ago she was ready, prepared to be a mom. But tonight as she makes her way through the piles of laundry that litter her hallways she can't help but think that maybe they shouldn't have had kids. Because as she has always said, you can't want the things that a surgeon wants and live the ways a surgeon lives without making a few sacrifices along the way. More often than not, as she has experienced, the sacrifices are personal. Ten years ago she thought that they would make it. She and Tuck could handle anything life wanted to throw at them. She figured if she made it through her intern year than she could do anything. And she has, except the fact that she feels like she is a complete and utter failure as a mother.

Ten years ago when she lost her first patient she truly came to terms with how much she hated being a failure. But right now, tonight as she tries to get her bedroom door open she realizes that she can't do anything about it. She has already missed out on what she missed. Like first steps, first words, first successful bike rides, and first Christmas'. But it comes with the territory. Sometimes she thinks that she should quit her job, but her job has become such an integrated part of who she is that she doesn't exactly know what she would be without it. She contemplates being just a mom for awhile as she makes her way into the kitchen to set the timer. But she knows, deep down, that she can never be just a mom. She would probably try and perform and appendicitis on William when she got bored. Gotta come out sooner or later she reasons as she plops down into the cushioned dining room chair. As she runs her fingers through her hair she gags on the smell of hospital radiating out of her pores. Well, that is something she definitely wouldn't miss. Oh, who is she kidding she would miss the smell the most.

As she sits in the dark silence of her dining room she hears her pager go off from the black hole that is her laundry room. As she stands reluctantly her feet almost give out and she wobbly makes her way to the beeping device. Ten years ago she would have been at the hospital still. These days she tries to come home as much as she can. But the thing that gets her the most is that she doesn't want to be home, she is there out of sheer guilt. She would rather be sleeping on a cot instead of fumbling to find her phone to call in. Because the truth is that she is going to have to go back in. She ponders just starting back to the car when she hears the timer go off. She suddenly remembers her previous intention. As she grudgingly makes her way back through the dark dining room she meets her fate. As she stares down at the thing that will haunt her for the rest of her life she knows she has another decision to make. The first one was hard enough, but knowing what she knows know she isn't sure she can handle another child.

Ten years ago they wanted a family. They wanted a couple of kids, and everything that came with. But in the last few years her distance has made them hesitate on their original plan and now she isn't sure. She reluctantly calls in to the hospital while her mind throws around the idea of having another kid. More three am feedings, spit up, sleepless nights, a whole lot more regret and all of the could've/should'ves. She wishes she could go back to ten years because then this decision would be a no brainer. Ten years ago she wouldn't seriously be considering the idea of aborting her second child.


	14. 10 years Richard

Disclaimer: They aren't mine. If they were the show would be Addison-centric :)

A/N: Sorry for such a long turn around on this one! Thanks for all of the reviews! Xyli

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He hates what a mess he has made of life. He hates that he wanted to work instead of being with his wife. He hates that he should have been home with her tonight instead of going out. He hates that it is the last thing that has got him fighting for his life in the back of an ambulance. Mostly, right now, in this moment he hates the damn sirens that keep interrupting what little line of thought he has. Tonight, he is trying to focus harder than any other time he can recall in his life. Memories of ten years ago and beyond keep echoing through his mind and he can't steady it long enough for one of them to play in its entirety. He sees Ellis, the day he left her when Meredith was on a carousel. He is trying not to focus on how he felt a little over ten years ago. Because ten years ago he was in New York trying to devote his life to his career, anything to lessen the pain of leaving the love of his life for the right person. As he feels an EMT reallocate above him his mind begins to spin carelessly. He can't believe that this is what it is like to die. It seems so rushed and yet so pedestrian. He is privy to a private and exclusive viewing of his own life. All he wants to see as the gurney jumps and shifts below him are the good moments. The moments, the memories that kept him going ten years ago. The times that brought him back to his wife, back to Seattle. But he can't find him; it feels useless as the doors slam open in front of his fuzzy vision. Focus, Richard focus. Why is he hearing his own voice? Why isn't there some sort of voiceover guy? He narrows his eyes in an attempt to stay alert and conscious as the pain courses through his body. It is numbing, and he knows now that he is going into shock. Then he sees her, how could she be there already? How long have I been down? What happened again? He only wishes his memory was as clear as it was ten years ago. He'd give his life for it to be, but he is fairly certain that he isn't going to hang on to that for much longer anyway. He feels her, and another memory presses its way into an already overcrowded space. He sees her the night she left him. Get out of my head. God let me see my wedding day or something. It isn't going to happen. He sees his drunken days in a haze as bar scenes flash before him. She is holding his hand, he knows that much. Holding his hand like she did through rehab…both times.

He blinks. He sees Ellis again, begging him to stay. Get out of my head. He sees the day she was lucid, him sitting there telling her stories he knew were never going to be true. He never planned on staying with her, but it was fun while it lasted. Then he did something he had prided his whole career on not doing, he got attached. Get out of my head. He blinks. He sees a flash of red hair and hears some rapid medical jargon about who he can only assume is himself. He is going down soon. No one can save him. His eyes are drifting and he hears Adele crying above him. He sees a montage of all the countless times he has made her cry. She is sitting, standing, laying, hunched over, leaning, but she is always alone. He is being wheeled somewhere, he sees the familiar walls and the clamoring above him has come to a deafening silence. He blinks. He is going down soon. He forces all of his remaining energy on trying to be in the moment. His eyes dance from Adele to Addison to Derek. Derek? The visions are coming too fast, he wants to speak. He wants to tell her. He wants to say how sorry he is for everything, but mainly the last ten years. How sorry he is for tonight. He blinks. He is going down soon. He wants to warn them. Tell them that this life is not all it is cracked up to be, so do something good with it. Not that the two above him have ever gotten anything right he muses.

He sees the night Adele told him she knew about the affair with Ellis. Then he sees the affair with Ellis. In vivid detail, the groans, the gasps, the limbs intertwined, the sweat. Get out of my head. He blinks. As he is pushed into a room the memories have become a blur. Twisted and knotted with one another. There is Adele and then Ellis and then countless medical cases. Medical cases? Focus Richard. His hearing has become acute, and he knows he is going down soon. He hears her above him, she is begging for him to pull through. He wishes that for once he could grant her wish. He wishes that tonight wasn't his end. He blinks. He is going down soon. Monitors screech to life as Derek and Addison labor above him. Desperately trying to save a life that isn't worth saving.

He blinks. One good thing will come from this. He won't be able to hurt her again like he did ten years ago. Tonight is the last time she will be disappointed in him. He feels her put her face next to his, and her tears are warm and wet against his cold and clammy skin. He sees the night they lost their only child. The child he didn't even know about until it was too late. Now the situation is reversed and she is crying above him as he lies balancing in the perils above death. Get out of my head; give me just one happy moment. He blinks. Ten years ago she would have felt the same way, and he wouldn't have cared less. He focuses on Derek holding Addison as they wait for him to slip away. He wonders who will call his time of death. His breathing is forced and ragged. He blinks. He can't keep his eyes open anymore. He is going down soon. He wishes that tonight was like ten years ago, because ten years ago his BA level wouldn't have left his wife angry with horrible memories of the night he slipped into his permanent demise.


	15. 10 years Mark

Disclaimer: If they were mine I am sure the show would have been taken off the air by now :)

A/N: Ok, here is Mark. His is a little sketchy for me, but I do have some stuff for after this is anyone is interested? Let me know!

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He hates that he is bruised and broken in ways that he, as a doctor, can not even begin to comprehend. He hates that no one think that he has feelings. He most certainly does and they are working overtime on trying to repair the black hole that is his broken heart. He hates that everyone thinks that they know what is going on but in reality they have no idea. He hates that if he actually told his story to anyone they would instantly take her side. Ten years ago he went through women like they were disposable. A new one every night, that was his motto; he hated sleeping alone. Now, that is all he ever seems to do.

Ten years ago he, Mark Sloan, didn't exactly love life but there isn't a lot that he wouldn't give to go back and never sleep with his wife. He wishes that he had the strength that he had ten years ago. He wishes that he could ignore her. He wishes that he didn't give her whatever she wanted when she pouted. He wishes that he didn't become a complete and utter mess when she smiled at him. Ten years ago he had no plans on falling in love. The fact that she was already married and he was in love with her was a mute point. No one knew. Ten years ago he was watching their marriage disintegrate. He was holding her while she cried all night because her husband wouldn't come home. He was reassuring her that it was nothing and that he still loved her, all the while he had some serious doubts. He has yet to figure out what the hell happened between them, but he got the girl so he doesn't really care.

This afternoon, as he slams his office door shut, and makes his way down to an on-call room he murmurs something about the tables being turned. As he is opening the door to find her favorite intern half-naked and waiting he cringes on the inside. She has done a ridiculous little number on him and now he is doing the only thing that he knows how to do, pushing the self-destruct button. As he begins working his way up her neck he knows this is going to hurt. As she is ripping his clothes off he tries to pretend and enjoy it. As she begins stroking him through his boxers he is secretly hoping she walks into this room a little faster. He doesn't want to have to actually follow through with this, it is killing him to do this much. He can almost hear the clicking of her heels against the tile as the intern grows more excited and restless. Finally as the intern begins to gasp while he works his magic fingers; that his wife used to love but no longer finds any use for, she opens the door. He pulls back a little and is prepared for a full blown screaming match in front of all of the staff; it was the only way to go down. She doesn't yell though. She quietly shuts the door, crosses the room, leans up against the railing of the beds, and mentions something about her husband being really good at that, and to please continue because she loves a good show as much as the next person. The intern runs out afraid as hell, and thank god for that because she has surprised him yet again.

She is smiling but he knows she is seething under her skin. This is going to be so much worse than ever anticipated. She tells him nice try, that she will see him at home, kisses him, and walks out. Ten years ago that definitely would not have happened. Her lack of emotion toward the situation is perhaps the most frightening. He is praying she doesn't even up the score; he can't bear the thought of someone else touching his wife. His mind is reeling as he flops down onto the bed, narrowly escaping thrashing his head against the bar. It would be a welcome pain, and he considers trying again but settles for staring at the wall. Ten years ago he was successful and independent. No strings attached, that was how he operated. But he supposes she always had all the strings so it didn't matter if he wanted to use them or not. Ten years ago he was doing the very same thing in an on-call room in New York. And he was thinking the same things. Anything to focus on something other than how she looked, smelled, or talked to him that day. He wonders when he turned into such a girl. He reasons it was only laying dormant the whole time until that one fateful night. He was thinking of it as destiny, his chance to finally be with her. She was probably thinking about Derek. No he is certain that is what she was thinking about. He didn't care.

As he arrives home to a damp, cold, and always inevitably empty house later that night he thinks about leaving her. He can't think of anything else to do given the situation. After what feels like an eternity he climbs into bed trying not to count the seconds until she arrives home. His mind wanders until she climbs in next to him. She assumes her normal position on the edge of the bed, so he decides to test the waters and pulls her back into him. She relents, and he whispers into her ear and tries desperately to slither into a sleep so deep that he will awake and imagine the whole day was a dream. As he ponders apologizing to her he hears her pager sound. It has become routine, and he knows it will be another sleepless night without her. He sits up with her as she grabs it, swears something about Yang and makes her way towards the door. Even the ten years ago part of him is screaming to beg her to stay and to let someone else handle it. He starts in and she glares at him as she slips into her clothes. Ah, the perks that come with being married to the chief he mutters as he falls back down into the bed. Right now, he wants to go back to ten years ago. That way it would be him leaving to the sound of the pager and whatever girl it was that night begging him to stay and cuddle with her. He hates how downright pathetic he has become in the last ten years.


	16. In the now Addison and Cristina

Disclaimer: Maybe I will steal them... plots

A/N: I think that this maybe the last "segment" in this once small turned massive fic. I am undecided. As for reading this goes, it takes place in their present... which is to say right where the last parts fell off (ex.Derek & Addison with dying Richard) Follow? Also they are much smaller "chapters" than the other ones, so I think I will be putting up two at a time...Thanks for reading and reviewing.. you all make my whole day! Xyli

Oh, and this seems to have gone seriously Addek... sorry to the Merder-ers.. if you are even reading any longer.

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--Addison-- 

This is wrong. No this is right, oh god so right. No, focus. This is wrong. There is no way that this should feel this wonderful. A thousand thoughts are ambushing her head and her emotions may just get the best of her at any moment now. She would, of course, blame it on her mentor's imminent death. But she knows what he knows. She knows how amazing it feels to be in his arms again. How perfectly she still fits into them after all these years. How in this split second it feels like she never left his embrace. How the last 20 some odd years disappear when he is holding her. She is trying her best to be in the moment. Trying to focus on the medicine at hand. There is no medicine for this. Either situation. She can't save him, she can't save herself. She feels ridiculous as she hears the heart monitor flat line and she bursts into tears. She feels ashamed. She shouldn't be crying. She is the chief, being held by her ex-husband, who she still loves. It is complicated, so she cries like it is a solution. Cries for the loss of someone very close, cries for the loss of a marriage that will haunt her for the rest of her life, cries for fact that she is a failure at her existing matrimony. She tries to pull away but he resists and pulls her closer, doing something to her hair as she hears Adele's shrieking sobs. She feels numb.

She should be over there, with her. Doing something, checking charts, rounding on patients, signing paperwork, yelling at an intern, anything. She feels moist droplets hit the top of her head and she knows that he can't let go right now. So she tries to focus on being there for him. She shifts gears; into sympathetic friend mode. She whispers reassuring things in his ear, and tries to make him/herself believe that it will all be okay from now on. If anything, this sort of display is only obscuring an already over convoluted scene. Gossip is fast here. She doesn't care. Right now she is trying to be there for him because for the first time in twenty some odd years he is vulnerable and he is showing her just how much he needs her. She is seizing her opportunity, but the nurses filing into the room disturb them and she is forced to pull away as he sheepishly brushes away his tears. She asks to be excused as she wipes her own tears aside and hurriedly rushes from the room in search of some form of shield against the onslaught of sensations brewing within. She passes her husband, who was probably watching the whole scene. She has no idea when or how he got there. All she knows; as she spins free from his grip and continues on her quest for safe haven; is that she can't save him. She can't save herself.

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--Cristina-- 

It is some ungodly hour and the last thing she wants to be doing is the only thing she can manage to continue. She is staring angrily through watery eyes as the annoying fluorescence of the hospital bulbs is bouncing of her daughter's curly jet black hair. She is silently cursing her dead husband for not being there to yell at during an eerily smooth labor. It went by too quickly for her liking and now she is contractually bound by the laws of motherhood to bond with the squirming infant next her. She wishes she could muster some affection for it but all she knows is that it is wrong to resent something that is merely a few hours old. Rationally, she knows the apathy will subside and she will feel guilty for the rest of her life for what she is doing tonight; but irrationality is blasting through her like a bad rock station. She has become completely detached and is silently screaming for a nurse to sedate her and get the child away from her. The child; who will remain nameless until someone forces her to scribble some letters down on the birth certificate. She wishes the labor would have been hard and painful. She just wants to feel any other emotion than the one that has taken over her body. She almost wishes nameless baby girl would have been born sick and whisked away to some NICU.

She needs space. She is suffocating in the small room with the windows that flaunt her only emotion effortlessly. Empty, black, and soundless with regret. The whimsical wallpaper that trails the walls is strangling her and she wants to scream out for a noose to speed the asphyxiation. Alas she can only manage to choke out sobs and pray that some sort of relief will set in; whether it be in the form of drugs or death. And when is seems she can't inhale once more the red-rimmed eyes of the chief duck into her room. As the older woman takes one glance at her sad state and bursts back into tears; she can't help but feign a feeling of cosmic payback for causing her husband's death. She knows this is hell on earth; it couldn't be anything less.


	17. In the now Alex and Derek

Dislcaimer: Not mine, never will be... they aren't even really in character at this point... I should give them new names and claim them as mine!

A/N: Alright so.. this verges on smut... fair warning. I don't usually write porny things, but it had to be done. Thanks for reading still... this is drawing to its end. Enjoy!

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--Alex--

He can't believe what a rush of adrenaline is pumping through his exhausted body. He finds it funny that one simple phone call can do that. He knows that this phone call he just got will change his life forever. He is ready; he has been waiting for something like this. He feels like he has simply been hanging onto a tightrope with one hand waiting to take the plunge into the un-netted darkness below him. He finds her at a bank downtown, and for the life of him he can not figure out why he ever let her get away. In the seconds it takes to get the keys out of the ignition and stride over to her he feels like the world's biggest idiot; and yet for some reason he is getting a second chance. He engulfs her in a hug that is probably a little too tight because she is gasping for air when he pulls back; but somehow through it all she manages to throw him a smile. He explains that he received another call moments after hers and they need to go into the hospital. He tries to read her expression (as every real emotion seems to have been drained from her face in the last few years) as she points to the three sleeping toddlers. He honestly thinks that he can understand how frightened she feels in these dark moments, but he opts for reassuring her and explains that everything will be okay now.

She says something about her husband, and he nods almost hearing her, for he is lost in her presence yet again. She continues and he absorbs everything his limited senses will take in. She looks the same, a little worn around the edges, but it is probably due to exhaustion. She smells the same, like cookies, always like cookies he smiles. She feels the same, a little jumpy but the same. He wonders if she tastes the same, but deems that exploration a little inappropriate and tries to draw focus to her voice. There is a definite difference there, it is withdrawn and quiet, the enthusiasm that used to radiate through her feminine intonation is long gone, but it makes no difference to him as they wake up her children and move them all to his car. He thinks it safer, if her husband really is the monster she says he is, that they leave her car there empty. He can't help but remark on how wonderful Hayley, Hannah, and Hunter are as he slips the smooth key back into the engine; she merely agrees and takes to staring out the window when the lights begin to speed by. As they head toward the hospital to greet Meredith, he tries to catch her up on everything she has been missing out on lately. He figures he can tell her that his flight leaves in fourteen hours at some other point, because it seems to be the least imperative thing pressing into his crowded skull at the moment.

* * *

--Derek--

He knows that holding his ex-wife is not supposed to feel this good. But as she tries to slip out of his embrace he can do nothing but hold her tighter and secretly pray that she doesn't notice his tears landing in her soft red hair. It is only seconds, a mere fleeting moment, but it feels more right than anything has in the last eight years. He sees Meredith making her way towards him as Addison rushes past her husband in the hall. He knows, he always has. The divorce papers on the table tonight were anything but a shock, and he may be an awful person for admitting it, but he has only been counting the hours until she finally gave up. He takes Jenibug out of her arms and holds onto her sleeping form for dear life as a few more tears escape his ducts. He is a good father, he knows that. Maybe a little absent, but there is no one else in the world who loves his daughter as much as he does. This part will kill him, and he wants anything besides a custody battle over her. He doesn't hate his wife at all, he just isn't interested anymore/ever. So instead he reluctantly places the true love of his life back in his wife's arms and starts after his ex. His ex-best-friend stands arms crossed watching him as he darts down the hall. He doesn't care who sees it anymore, he can't hold it in. He finds her in an empty closet, no doubt used by the janitors.

She is sitting unceremoniously on an overturned bucket holding her knees as she sobs. He is startling her as he pulls her back up into his arms. He relishes the moment for a while, and then proceeds with the one thing he has wanted to do for the last five years. She is back up against a wall as his lips callously wash over her neck down to her collarbone. She isn't objecting and he takes it as a cue to move forward. He briskly removes the articles of clothing that stand in their way and stands for a moment taking her in. He misses her body, and is planning on showing her just how much. He begins to work his fingers around her clit, and she isn't moving to stop him. This isn't happy, slow, meaningful, intimate sex and he knows that. He pushes himself deeper into her and he finally receives a slight gasp from her flushed lips. And when he releases himself into her, triggering her own orgasm he receives a groan from her constricted throat. As they pull away from one another he is on the verge of spilling his heart out and telling her that he still loves her, but the look in her eyes stops him dead in his tracks. He did something he shouldn't have done again. He took advantage of the one person he shouldn't have. She is hurriedly pulling on her clothes and he follows suit and they are soon in the hallway. She is bolting away from him, and he remains stuck frozen. He has no idea what just happened. It was not supposed to go like that. It came off wrong, and he has no idea where to start fixing the many tears and leaks that are wreaking havoc through his body. He tries to rationalize it by saying they were grieving. That they needed each other, but he flashes back to a few minutes before and she didn't appear to need him.

This is wrong, so very wrong. As he takes a few deliberate steps after her he knows what he did, he knows what it feels like he did at least. He found out his life was crumbling and he wasn't going down alone. He took her with him again into the deep dark ocean of regret, secrets, and betrayal. As he manages to yell out her name she ducks into a room. He needs to repair this, because without her he isn't sure he can continue sucking air in and pushing it back out. And knowing that maybe, just maybe she feels the same is enough to drive him closer to the room she last disappeared into.


	18. In the now Izzie and Meredith

Disclaimer: Not mine. Never going to be mine.

A/N: These two are undoubtedly the hardest for me to write. I have a hard time with their characterizations so I hope they come across clear. Thanks for reading, and to crazychica for the great reviews! Xyli

* * *

--Izzie--

She is starting to think that maybe she should be declared mentally insane. As she watches the bright lights of the city swirl and blur in a brusque dance she takes one last look at her kids. They are amazingly asleep still and are not pulling each other's hair, or screaming for an undisclosed reason. She knows this is for them, but she can't help but feel a little bad for calling the man she hasn't talked to in years for no reason. He is trying to catch her up on the gossip, but she is distraught and is trying to keep her attention anywhere other than his voice. He looks the same she mentally notes as he slowly pulls in hospital parking lot. She has been here many times in the last three years, but only ever to watch at a careful distance. She never used to have these boundaries; she thinks it is funny how much marriage can change a person. She wonders what he has done with his life lately, but thinks it better not to ask.

Tonight will change her. It will inevitably rock her world. She is excited for the change and what it can bring to her life, but she is also frightened that at some point she will awaken from this dream and fall back into the pit of despair that her life has slowly become. She notices him getting out of the car and heading over to open hers, and she wonders when he turned into such a gentleman. Then they attempt the one thing she has found the most difficult in the last three years, moving the triplets when they are asleep. Even with two people there aren't enough hands, and when Hannah wakes up screaming in the process they decided she is awake enough to walk as they carry the other two. She steps into the elevator. The. Elevator. It is hard not to recall all of the memories that this building holds, let alone this single elevator. She thinks she might just break down right there and then, but she is saved by the dinging and the doors slamming open. As they head down the corridor she catches a glimpse of what Meredith has become. She doesn't look worse for the wear; and adds on that life with McDreamy must be as wonderful as they all thought so many years ago.

As they quickly approach she hears Alex attempt to explain their understated complicated situation. She peers into the room and sneaks a viewing of what had to have been the most gut wrenching moment just a short while ago. She looks back to Alex, and he explains that they have one more stop and then they can leave. They enter the room to find Cristina bawling alongside Addison, and Derek hiding in a corner watching the whole scene. Try as she might she can't stay in the moment and her thoughts are flooding through the small dam she had put up for the night.

She can't help but feel like a bystander. She watches everyone like her life depends on it; in a way it actually does. She quickly notes the changes in appearance and demeanor. She feels like she is having an out of body experience, like a ghost hovering over an appalling scene. She feels like running out, running back to the airport and trying to explain to her husband why she is late. She can't. She knows there is no going back; even if it was safer than what she is about to do. She can't figure out when she turned into such a wimp. He seems to understand her uneasiness and asks if they should leave. She wants to scream out "Yes! Yes! Yes!" but the people who have needed her the most are all standing before her and she won't leave them again. And she hopes, perhaps in vain, that maybe they won't leave her this time either.

* * *

--Meredith--

She received the earth shattering news about thirty minutes after he husband willingly hopped out of bed to the sound of a simple beep. She gathered Jen and prepared for the worst on her short drive to her how away from home. As she walks into the crowded room and hands off her daughter she realizes she wasn't quite ready for what she got. Her rock was gone. Her stability was shot to hell, and she is beginning to regret the divorce papers that are littering the kitchen table. She can't do this without him. She tries to soak up the moment, drink it in. But all she can do is choke and gasp on the sterile atmosphere that threatens her airways.

She doesn't need to look behind her to know that Derek is gone. Running away is what he does best. She doesn't need to hear his fleeting shoes against the bright tile to know where he is headed. She spends a few more minutes that feel like hours running her delicate fingers along a dead man's fuzzy arm. Out of all the shit life has dealt her thus far, this one takes the cake. Normally she can get through anything; all she has to do is keep swimming. But right now as the anguish settles into a deep place in her heart she feels like someone is has chained her leg to the bottom of a pier in the bay. She is suffocating and she has to get out of the room. When she steps into the hall the feeling of a sucker punch to the gut gains more momentum as her eyes land upon Izzie, and what can only be her posse of children. She hears Alex mumble something but her attention couldn't be farther away.

She feels like she is in a haze, and she is starting to think that tequila would be an excellent way to end this awful morning. She knows she is lifting her feet, and walking with her daughter hand in hand. She feels a tiny bit of warm flesh pressed into her palm as the approach Cristina's room. If she had to judge the friend she hasn't seen in months she's have to say, "She looks how I feel." She sees Derek and Addison in the room, but her brain can't make any clear collations at the moment which leaves her trying to focus on her hysterical friend. She hops immediately into her bed and pulls the sobbing woman into her arms. She doesn't care what anyone thinks about what she is doing. They have all either betrayed, or abandoned her in her darkest hours. So tonight she is going to be there for her long-lost "person" because it is the only thing she can bring herself to do.


	19. In the now George and Miranda

Disclaimer: Not mine...

A/N: Sorry for the horrible turnaround time on this section. I am working on Mark so it shouldn't be too long next time. Enjoy, and thanks for the reviews. Xyli

* * *

--George--

He is trying strenuously to stay in the moment with her; trying to keep any form of hope alive. He is trying to keep his hands from trembling while he attempts to punch in the familiar numbers on his cell phone. He checks on her again, and mocks himself for thinking there will be any change. She is dead. She is gone. He hears someone pick up but he can't force any words out past his lips so he hits the end button and crumbles into a sobbing heap on top of his dead wife. In theory, one should be strong enough, focused enough to take the necessary precautions with a corpse. He knows that what he is doing right now couldn't be farther from the stance he should be taking as a doctor. But he can't seem to grasp onto any sort of clarity. He is perhaps hoping for some sort of divine intervention. He gets it after what feels like an eternity, in the form of his screaming mentor at his front door. His gaze shifts to the glass pane to see the woman standing in the cold fog of the early morning. He can't move. His body is permanently cemented in its position so he turns his back on the figure and continues on his guilt ridden quest of mourning.

His watery eyes watch as the lights on the bay jiggle and bounce in an uncohesive dance. He is acutely aware of the ambulance in front of him. Aware of how the intense lights are not swirling, or how the sirens can not be heard, and how he knows that there is no one in the back with her. Someone should be back there with her. As he shifts his feet out in front of himself he realizes that he hasn't undone the seatbelt and is strangling himself to get out of the car to follow her essence. As he paces the ER floor and waits for the inevitable news he can't help but remark on how easy went. She was there that night, and now she isn't. The profoundness of it all is so mind boggling that he doesn't hear Bailey come out and confirm his worst fears. He feels her leading him towards a room but he hasn't the right mind to ask what for. Her hand guides his arm. It is insanely human and warm like his wife's once was. He can't help but make the comparisons in everything around him. He imagines all of the good times they used to have, before cancer came to play. He thinks of his earlier days of chasing her around because he hadn't realized he had already caught her for the rest of life's duration.

As they approach a crowded room he sees numerous familiar faces. He takes ease in their sorrow. Not a one of them looks like they are having a better day than he, and it is comforting in that he doesn't have to pretend to feel as great as they all do. His eyes bounce from the guilty pair of ex's, to the mourning new mother, to the confused ex-lover's, and finally settle upon Meredith. He takes this once in a lifetime opportunity and climbs right into bed with the both of them before his tears begin to fall heavily against the white hospital linen. He doesn't care who sees this display, they are all the people who should have been with him through the ordeal. Not one of them was, so they can substitute in for the night and he will allow them to console his broken heart.

* * *

--Miranda--

She is pissed off and angry that she is having to stand outside in the rain. She is terrified that he won't open the door. She is dreading having to knock the door down because really she is exhausted. Housing an unborn child is no small task and having to run around Seattle at odd hours in the morning is not something that she is thrilled about. Finally he opens the door and walks away without a word. She finally finds the reason she was paged and pushes George to side while trying to find a pulse. She asks a million questions, all of which go unanswered by the grief stricken man next to her. When the ambulance comes they ask the million questions she can't answer. As they ride in a heart breaking silence behind the ambulance she thinks of asking him how she is. She already knows the answer, but it is just what you say.

This is above and beyond her call of duty and she is beginning to feel like she may never get rid of that group of interns she had five years ago. She comes out from behind the blue curtain and announces his inevitable fate. She finds it rather remarkable how often death takes people by surprise. Even when said death was along time coming. She feels a pang of guilt and sadness for the man she is guiding behind her, but knows that this went the way it was supposed to. As she hears the commotion coming from outside of the room she stops. She planned on telling George where they were headed but thought better of it. She knows what he needs right now better than he does so she pulls him in for a tight hug before sending him on his way. She feigns a feeling of a memory where she sent William off to his first day of school but as soon as her eyes catch the people in the room it quickly dissipates. She glances around at the sad looking bunch before she sees George hop right into bed with Cristina and Meredith. If she didn't know better she would say that O'Malley was going to get cut for his current antics but it looks like everyone in the nursery trimmed room needs a little help from someone else.

She wonders what it will cost her this time. She doesn't have much sanity left, and this growing child inside of her drains all of her energy before she can even get up for the day. But the broken people inside this room are all her friends no matter how much she wants to deny it. They look back at her expectantly and she falters on who to console first. She knows of each of their problems, and although she disagrees with most of them they all need her now. She is their leader and they are her team. She can't abandon them in their darkest hours so she walks quietly into the room and decides to start with Addison. She will get to the rest later. She knows she can do this. She is the Nazi, this is what she was made for whether she likes it or not.


	20. In the now Mark

Disclaimer: I never have owned them.

A/N: Ok, so I finished Mark a lot sooner than planned so I thought I would go ahead and post it. I can't say for sure where the story is headed now. I feel like branching it off and doing something a little different, or maybe just an epilogue but we are definitely winding down here. Enjoy! Xyli

* * *

--Mark-- 

He can't say that he has been here before. He has had a lot of troubled times in his life, but this is on a whole other level. He watches as his wife clings to another man. He examines said man stroking her hair down as his slow tears begin to take form. He sees the man's wife come barreling into the room and his wife come racing out of it. He stares as his hands reach out to her. He watches as they fall upon her waist and she spins out of them all too easily. And then he feels himself remain in place as his once best friend heads toward her. He knows the chain of events, he knows how the whole story goes and ends but it doesn't make it sting any less. Who wants to admit that their wife belongs with another man?

He stands motionless watching the scene unfold before him. He is a part of the play. But his character is so unimportant that all it can do is stand on its mark and watch the rest of the cast carry out their lines. As he watches Adele shrieking over her now dead husband he knows that he should have gone after her. Then again, on the other hand he knows exactly what would have happened. She would have yelled, screamed, and sobbed while he did his best to console the love of his life. He stands for what feels like an eternity. Nurses, interns, medical school students, doctors, patients, and families all cross his path and he doesn't move. He feels like his feet have been concreted to the harsh white tile. He isn't exactly sure when he started moving or where he is headed to but he knows that he has to at least attempt finding her. He accidentally stumbles upon a scene that was playing out behind closed doors. He steps into the crowded room and he meets every pair of eyes that will meet his. He hasn't seen most of these people in years and yet here they all are performing their scenes simultaneously against one another. While it may appear that their stories are connected and tangled together he knows the truth. They are all there for themselves; everyone including himself.

He sees Derek's look and he knows that his wife just evened the score card. The only sense of relief he is getting from the heartbreak is the apologetic look she is wearing. He sees Miranda make a move for her but he steps forward quickly towards his wife. He crosses stage left and moves for the corner of the room. He stands quietly in front of her as the rest of the room lets out their lines in the form of sobbing hysterics. As she begins to walk away from him and head for the exit he wishes that his character would do something other than chase the one woman who never wants to be caught in his embrace.


	21. Epilogue Section 1

A/N: This has been a long time coming but thanks to everyone for sticking in with this. I was on vacation hence the lack of updates but I am back now and ready to roll. Hope you all enjoy.

* * *

--Addison-- 

It has been three years since that night in the room. She thinks of it frequently. The profoundness of them all finding one another again. It was destiny. A long time ago she believed in destiny, but had come to think of it as naivety. That night sent her back to a place of longing for belief. It gave her a vague sense of hope that maybe everything wasn't as ill-fated as it appeared to be. Sure, she had just had random but hot sex in a supply closet with someone wasn't her husband. And sure maybe she shouldn't have been as happy as she was about it at the time; the moments when everyone in that room was mourning over one thing or another. But that night had shifted something for her; that night cleared her mind. After that night she knew that maybe life isn't as pretty as everyone hopes it will be, but sometimes good things can come from the mess. Now three years later she is back in her home town of New York with her first husband. Their journey was long, messy, and filled with road blocks but they made it. She has become rather taken with his daughter and shortly after Meredith's untimely death, Jen started calling her mom. It isn't the picture perfect family they had always planned on, but it is a start. Later this year they are expecting their first biological child. They tried for about two years, and then gave up. But that's the thing about her life, just when you think she couldn't possibly endure more a surprise will give way. She feels a little old to becoming a first time mother but he constantly reassures and shows her the reasons why she will be fabulous. She feels lucky and blessed to have found a way back to him, and she knows what they both know. That they love each other enough to never let go again, and are sane enough to never look back at all the things that brought them together once and for all.

* * *

--Alex--

He was right to think that that night would change him forever. How one simple call could have lead him back to his lover and turned him into a new father. In the last few years he has enjoyed everything that comes with the territory. He likes playing catch with Hunter, splashing through mud puddles with Hannah, baking things with Hayley, trying to understand 6 year old logic, chasing the blonde-haired monsters around until Izzie has had enough, wrapping birthday and Christmas presents until his talented fingers are numb, tucking them in after a long day of first grade, and most importantly being a never failing presence in the three pairs of brown eyes that meet his gaze everyday. He never understood how someone could make their job more important than their family. He surmises that to the fact that it is just the kind of guy he is. He is still a hard-core surgery jock but he would easily cop to the fact that he would much rather be on a family outing than in a seven hour surgery. Lately he finds himself arriving home before his new fiancee. Lately he finds that after his last surgery when he scrubs out he gets an overwhelming surge that carries him home to see what his children have been up to.

* * *

--Derek--

Years after an event that should have shaken his world to the core, Derek finds that he feels oddly normal. Meredith's death was hard on him even though they were no longer together. He was merely grateful that he had re-married a woman who could understand what it was like to lose someone who had become such an integrated part of your life. He will never be able to deny that Meredith was a good part of his life regardless of the fact that they were never destined to be; she did after all give him an amazing daughter. While Jen most closely resembles her father on second glance it could be seen the million different little quirks she has that truly make her her mother's daughter. Derek sees these things all day and wonders how he never noticed before. Through the years of trial and tribulation he is overjoyed to be back with Addison and when she told him of their soon-to-be newest addition he was walking on air for months. As he watches his very pregnant wife attempt to help Jen decorate the eight foot tall evergreen in their fireplace lit living room he is suddenly happy for all of life's hard moments. For all the fights, discussions, hardships, wars, sorrows, and regrets because they all lead him here to this. As they set the last strand of lights in place and Jen bounces around excitedly he knows that there has never been a time in his life happier than this.


	22. Epilogue Section 2

A/N: Ok, one more post after this. Thanks to everyone for hanging in and taking it oh, and I still own nothing. Xyli

* * *

--Cristina-- 

She thinks of him constantly still. She tries to remember his tone; the way he used to say her name. She attempts to remember the times she would come home after a long day to find him snuggle dup on the couch with Spencer; a book laying over his chest and a blanket tangled down by their feet. She has found in the last few years that time does not necessarily heal all wounds. It dims the visions and scrapes away her memories. It took the sharp piercing pain in her heart and turned into a dull lulling ache that she can now manage. She has returned back to the world she used to inhabit; at least in the physical sense. She could never make it back into the doors of SGH after that night and after Meredith left her in this world alone she decided that it was time for a move. She had lost all of her good reasons to stick around and endure the agony of his hometown. So she uprooted her small family of three and placed them back down where she had grown up. She stills hates the constant sunshine but she has begun to find something comforting about the rays that beat down on her pale complexion. Life has moved on. She had a choice to become uncharacteristically overwrought with grief compiled with life in a black hole of self pity, or, she could simply overcome the bad. As she sets her feet down the black pavement of her new hospital, where she is the feared devil resident, and helps their daughter out of her car seat she knows what choice to make. As she grasps Jane's hand (named for his mother, who she now gets along with wonderfully) and places one foot in front of the other she knows that the process has truly begun. She will overcome.

* * *

--Izzie-- 

She rather enjoys the power that came with stopping her world on a dime. The confidence that came with knowing that ultimately she could have control over her life again. Finally things feel right for her. The custody battle was ugly and wrought with each other's indiscretions but in the end the judge saw right through the façade and gave her her children once and for all. She loves that she has a man who simply sees her for her. She likes knowing that he appreciates her job because it is something she has really began to flourish in lately and it requires more time than he has to put in at the hospital. She feels a bit giddy thinking that as long as they have each other nothing will ever be able to take them down. She feels blessed in knowing that he absolutely adores her children and is set to officially adopt them, though they have always been calling him dad, next week. Finally she is thankful that her children have no memories of the man that kept their mother in a psychological box of terror. It wouldn't be fair or correct to say that she was amazingly perfect at being a mother and a doctor because they all have slip ups. They both do, but she finds that it is handling them together has renewed her spirit and she hasn't felt this alive in years. As she watches their children grow into their personalities, and watches how he handles being a dad she wonders how in the world she managed to shrug him off all of those years ago.

* * *

--George-- 

Through time and persistence he has climbed out of the bitter pit of despair to someplace with slightly better lighting. The years have left many marks on a man's should who maybe never deserved anything that he was made to endure. But he finds that that is merely how life weaves its unconventional stories. He stopped after his wife's suicide for many months. He locked himself in their apartment and simply ceased. He had many visitors looking after him but he rarely even got up from his position on the bed they shared to answer the door. Eventually they made a million copies and kept his house stocked with food in case he ever decided to stop holding her favorite shirt for a minute and try and eat. He eventually agreed to move back in with Meredith (until her death), and is now in a closet like room in the hectic Karev household. He didn't return to work for almost a year. Her will left him everything and he could stop working this instant if he so chose, but that isn't what it is all about. He is trying valiantly to save every patient who crosses his path because he couldn't save her. It's stupid, a waste of time, and he recognizes every bit of it but he can't stop himself from trying. He ironically finds solace in helping as many people as possible while ignoring himself. So while his soul is busy on hiatus he is just buying time on a crusade until the day he returns to himself. It has been three years and he feels nothing. Every emotion is over ridden powerfully by the feeling of absolute sadness but he keeps hope. He knows the day will come when he wakes up and feels a little lighter in his steps. Hope is all he has at present but it is enough to keep him breathing in and out.


	23. Epilogue Section 3

A/N: Ok, this is it. The end. Amazing, I know. Thanks to everyone for hanging in there with this one. I appreciate all of your feedback. Check out some of my other stuff if you ever get a chance.

Xyli

* * *

--Mark--

He walked away from them with a lot of pain and little regret. He'd do it all again. In the end he simply wasn't "the one". If he had to be honest with himself, even in their happiest moments together, he knew. A lifetime of never being able to resist the one woman who wouldn't leave his side regardless of the countless indiscretions had led to his first divorce. It will be his only. In reflection he is happy it is all over. He has found new joy in being a casual part of their growing family. He is willing to concede the fact that it is all better this way, this is the way it should have gone from the day they said, "I do". The first time. He has a few scratches and bruises but is miraculously better for the wear. He has come to terms with the fact that there may actually be no soul mate for him out there in the lonely world. Or perhaps that maybe she is his and Derek is hers. It is a slightly messed up train of thought but it makes sense to him nonetheless. He endures and watches with pride because he knows that life will be over far too soon and they are much too important in his life to be unhappy. So he meanders along in front of their house on his way home and watches the Christmas scene unfold in front of him. He gazes inside to see the two of them watching eagerly as Derek attempts to light the star on the top of the tree. He stands in wonderment outside as the wind nips at his light jacket. His happiness is derived entirely on still being able to be a part of their family, their trio. His eyes briefly meet Addison's and before he can object she is ushering him into the house out of the cold. Nothing erases hard feelings and a tangled history among the three of them like a hot cup of juju.

* * *

--Miranda--

She lead them through the darkness individually (though none of them would ever give her any credit), and she has been their teacher for life. She watched the Shepherds rejoin, she watched Meredith's last breaths on this earth, she held all the rest of the interns as the wept through their personal loses and been surprised to see how quickly they all rebounded. Her own personal life has flourished in the last three years. They were blessed with an amazing daughter on a very snowy night when they both made it to the hospital in one piece. She has learned the importance of being home with her family. It was a hard lesson and it took a while to sink in but she finally gets it. When the Chief and the two top attending ran away for a better town she thought it was finally her time. It wasn't, but in retrospect being chief seems to ruin everything it touches so she is thankful. She has learned that destroyed house and tripping over toys in the hallway is nothing as long as she can safely make it to bed with her husband. She even takes a liking to doing laundry because it is a welcome retreat from the screaming that comes from play time in the living room. She now relishes in the fact that she can be home for dinner a few times a week. It was a hard lesson alright but she got it and is doing her best to help others understand as only she can.


End file.
